Author's Note: I know, I need to update my other fic now that it's met the review mark, but I really wanted to write the first chapter of this tonight. I should be done with the next chapter of Looking For A Light tomorrow, and I'll post that then. So, disclaimer- I don't own these characters, there is slash, there is a little dominance. I like that shit. Hopefully you do as well. If you do, read and review- the more reviews, the faster the chapter uploads! I wrote two chapters in a day for Looking For A Light when I got a whole bunch of reviews at one time- just, you know, hinting. Anyway, enjoy!

Harry was hard.

He did not know why he was hard, but he could feel all of his muscles tensing- with the exclusion of the muscles in control of his cock, which were obviously doing their own thing. It was almost as if his body was preparing for a blow he hadn't sensed yet. Ha ha, blow. He was sitting in Potions- of course, with Slytherin. Snape had decided to give them a lecture on safety- or the prevention of idiocy, as Snape called it- as Neville had just blown up the entire classroom during the previous session.

Apparently Snape remembered all too well the distinctive pain of the removal charms for ingrown hair, and was attempting to frighten everyone into preventing the debacle from reoccurring. Harry frowned. Even the disturbing vision of a naked Snape having his ass zapped with removal charms did not lessen the intensity of the erection he was sporting.

That was very, very strange.

He'd passed the stage where he got erections for no reason a few years back, thank fuck, and even during that stage he hadn't had any problem willing them away. He'd learned how relatively early- he'd had to. At thirteen he'd caught a glimpse of Malfoy oiling his broomstick out on the Quidditch pitch after practice. He'd been flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, but to Harry, their faces had been blurs. At first, the pale boy was leisurely stroking the stick with a silken white cloth and some sort of liquid- it was clear, and it reminded Harry of the glistening pre-cum that slicked his hand during his now frequent wank sessions. Then, he'd paused and looked over at Harry. He didn't know why, but after that, Draco had tossed the oiled hankerchief at one of his goons and slowly slid a dark dragonhide glove off of his pale hand before beginning to oil the broomstick vigorously, bare, pale flesh to hard wood. Harry had flushed intently and practically ran to the Gryffindor showers, sure that Malfoy had been trying to embarrass him. Watching the other boy rub the shaft of his broom so intently with clear, glistening liquid and obvious relish over and over again really did something to Harry.

That "something" was that every time he saw Malfoy ride a broom, touch a broom, or, on occasion, just with the sight of Malfoy himself, he'd get a hard on.

Clearly, that had been a serious problem.

Harry found a solution about four months into wanking himself raw after every interaction or sighting of Malfoy when he realized he could force his cock down with pure will.

So it wasn't some random erection, then.

Well, what was it then?

Harry got his answer almost immediately. A soft silvery smoke, almost like that of a pensieve, swarmed Harry's vision. He felt like he was floating, or possibly drowning. He wasn't sure of which. He wasn't sure of anything really, until he found himself back in his seat in the potions classroom.

What the fuck?

He looked around, realizing that there was no one at all in the classroom other than him. Worrisome. Very worrisome. He wondered if this was an attempt on his life or rather a monumental potions cock-up made by Neville. Again. He wouldn't have been surprised- if anyone could cause a major potions accident during a lecture on safety, it would be Neville.

Harry sighed, deciding that, if he ever wanted to leave, the thing to do would be to try all of the exits. Snape's door was closest, so he tried that first- he crept towards it with his wand poised for action. The stone floor radiated cold through his shoes, and he shivered slightly, trying the knob with his free hand. No; it rattled, but was firmly locked. He tried a few unlocking charms- no results going that route either. Still locked. Finally recognizing the fact that Snape's office would have probably been a dead end anyway, as Snape's wards were notoriously complicated, he crept towards the main door.

He was about four steps away when the door opened slowly, hitting the wall and bouncing shut with only a muffled noise.

Draco Malfoy had opened the door.

Over summer holiday, Draco had grown even taller, his long, lean limbs taking on more definition.

Harry had to crane his neck to look up into Malfoy's face- Draco's face.

He'd stopped caring which name he used for Draco in his head when he became the only thing he thought of while tossing off.

Harry looked up into Draco's face, trying to think quickly. After he'd defeated Voldemort in the Department of Mysteries, Lucius, Draco's father, had killed himself with a quick and efficient killing curse. Narcissa had followed him into death the same way. Draco might blame him for that, Harry realized. He'd made sure everyone knew that Draco hadn't done anything wrong; he'd gone to the Daily Prophet immediately to publicly proclaim the blonde's innocence to Rita Skeeter in a large headlining article.

But still- Harry thought there was a chance Draco might want to torture him. Thus, he kept his wand up, pointed at Draco's chest. "What-" for some reason, Harry's voice had gone all breathy, like it did when he was arous-

Oh.

The raging erection that had been plaguing him in the real world had followed him here. It had merely escaped his notice as he'd been focused on figuring out where he was and how to leave. He knew that if Draco saw, he would never, ever let him live it down. Boy-Who-Lived gets a hard-on in an empty potions classroom- Snape's empty potions classroom. Thus, Harry cleared his throat, blinked, and tried to continue in an even voice- he wasn't going to expose himself to any more mockery. He'd had enough of that from Ron and company after he'd come out as gay.

"What am I doing here? Did you bring me here? How the hell do I leave?"

The questions poured from Harry in a reasonably controlled stream. The only hints of arousal in his voice were in the slight strain and gruffness, but one could easily have marked that down as fear or anger.

Draco responded by merely raising a perfectly groomed brow and smirking at Harry. It was a soft smirk, though- one that could have almost been read as seductive were they not who they were.

"Harry."

Oh shit.

Draco's voice was always alarmingly appealing, but now it was like silk- dark, even, and provocative. Harry felt his stomach flutter a bit, and marked it down as a result of being spoken to directly. He'd not talked to Draco one-on-one in ages, not since they'd stopped exchanging insults and jibes at every occasion.

"Do you remember how you came across your victory in the Ministry?"

Double shit.

Harry did not like where this was going, but he knew that Draco was not going to continue until he answered in the affirmative. He nodded stiffly, squirming a little bit. His cock was really sensitive, and his pants were suddenly rubbing him in very frustrating ways.

"My mother sent you a message, Potter, telling you exactly what was planned. She loved her husband quite literally to death, but she was not going to let his cowardice and subservience sentence the magical community to hell on earth."

Harry remembered quite well- that message had saved many lives, and allowed him and the members of the order to gather forces prior to showing up. And, the prophesy had proven true- Harry had displayed a power that Voldemort knew not. In the end, lying bloodied and broken on the ground, Harry had willed his magic to crush the Dark Lord from existence; to simply extinguish the creature that had caused so much anguish and horror in the lives of so many. His magic had obeyed.

"And I was incredibly grateful for that service, Malfoy, as I still am."

He paused. Harry was truly grateful, he was just slightly worried about what that was going to mean for him.

"How is that relevant? Why am I here?"

Malfoy's face was unreadable, but not cruel.

"It is relevant because, Potter, you owe me a life debt."

Oh.

Harry had been reading up- Hermione had been very proud indeed- on pureblood culture. He had read about the life debt, the binding, line-descending I-O-U that had the potential to ruin or even end the lives of those who owed it, depending on to whom it was owed. When someone called on a life debt, they could not be turned down. There were no negotiations. The one who was calling in the debt had free reign. He had just never thought that a life debt would be applied to him. Harry looked somberly at the ground, and waited for Malfoy to demand that he kill himself, or that he rend himself limb from limb- how appropriately frustrating, how completely ridiculous that he would die after killing Voldemort.

When Draco finally spoke, his demands were something entirely different from what Harry had expected.

"Right now-" began Draco, sliding of one of those ungodly gloves to reveal a strong, pale hand, "I demand that you strip for me. As for later, I demand that you meet with me at times of my choosing in order to.. meet more of my demands. Of a similar nature."

Someone somewhere was playing a joke on him. Harry was completely sure. Things this close to his fantasies never happened in real life. Ever. He'd been completely lost in his train of thought until Draco stepped directly into his personal space, invading his senses, forcing him to almost tilt back completely to look up at him. He could feel Draco's breath ghosting patterns onto his flushed skin, and his incredibly stiff cock began to leak pre-cum more steadily. He had to stop breathing for a moment in order to resist the urge to cant his hips upward for anything, any sort of friction.

His problem was getting hard to bear, even for someone with his strength of will.

Hard to bear. Ha ha.

Draco's voice was rough and low when he spoke again. "Answer me now, Potter- will you accept my terms?" Of course he would. He would have begged for those terms, actually. To be at Draco's sexual beck-and-call had been his consistent dream and wank fantasy since he'd been a thirteen year old with the most uncomfortable and unrelenting erection he'd ever experienced. But, again, Harry did not want to be humiliated more than he'd have to be- showing too much interest would surely cause Draco to mock him. So, he grit out his acceptance as evenly as he could given the state of his poor prick. It ached for touch.

"I will, Malfoy."

Draco's eyes flashed with triumph, and something else, something dark and animal. Harry noted a slight twitch of the tall blonde's lips rather curiously. What the hell was Malfoy getting out of this? Harry was completely out of his depths- he'd never had anyone before, not in a sexual way, not even in a holding-hands relationship sort of way- so he had no idea how to read the other boy- no, man. They'd both matured so much since the fall of Voldemort- watching Draco as obsessively as he had, he knew this for a fact.

"Good. Now, I'd like to make this very clear- I expect you to call me Draco at all times. Even outside of our-" he smirked, and Harry had to adjust himself, "-little meetings. Understood?"

Hmm. Harry wondered how long it would take for him to start moaning that instead of Malfoy every day when he came to thoughts of the blonde.

"Sure, Draco."

Draco's mouth twitched again, and Harry's weeping prick followed suit. This time, Harry saw Draco's eyes dart down to the tent in his pants. He was sure that there was a visible damp patch- his state was obvious. Harry flushed. Hopefully Draco wouldn't humiliate him for it- after all, the blonde had to think him somewhat attractive- he was using his fucking life debt for sexual favors, after all. Draco cleared his throat with a slight smile, naturally reasserting his control over the situation.

"This time," he began leisurely, "we're going to start nice and easy." He paused, smiling darkly again. Harry's body was all too willing to respond. "Well, somewhat easy."

Draco strode commandingly to the lush leather chair that had appeared in the center of the now deskless classroom. Apparently, the room responded to Draco's will. The chair was without armrests. Draco removed his robe, leaving him in only a crisp white button up that fit rather snugly on his leanly muscular torso, and then tight, tight black pants. Harry, at this point, could not control his squirming- if the other man had created this world with a potion or a spell, he had to know what Harry was struggling with. Surely that wasn't a coincidence.

The other man sat in the chair with his legs spread slightly- invitingly. Harry stood where he'd been standing since Draco had strode in, fidgeting, aching to touch himself in some way, to bring just a touch of relief, but he managed to keep himself in check. Draco looked at Harry expectantly, with one cool brow raised and one foot tapping elegantly against the stained stone floor.

Oh- at this point he was probably supposed to be doing something. He'd have hit himself, except that his mind was so fogged with arousal that he didn't think it would have been fair.

"What would you like me to.. do, Draco?"

Draco smiled widely, and it was probably the most beautiful thing Harry had ever seen.

"Well, for starters, Harry, I'd like you to get naked."

Draco's cavalier statement undid any self control and force of will Harry had left. He began to slip off his shirt- he'd been without his robe when he'd arrived. He allowed it to slide off of him and onto the floor once he'd loosened the tie and undone the buttons. Then he froze for a moment. Draco had opened his legs a bit wider, and was very casually stroking his bulge through his tight pants, eyes hooded. Harry's mouth was entirely too dry.

"And the trousers, Harry."

Harry then realized he'd been standing in the same position, hands on his button, gaping at Draco. He flushed and immediately pulled the offending article of clothing off, and had started to peel off his rather damp briefs, too, until Draco stopped him.

"No," he looked calculatingly at Harry with those hooded grey eyes. "No, I think I want to take those off."

Yes. Please.

Harry walked quickly to Draco, standing anxiously and eagerly about a step away from Draco's seat- or throne, rather. He sat in it so regally, even with a hard on and a slightly unbuttoned shirt. The blonde sat up quickly and pulled Harry so he was standing in between his open legs before quickly yanking the briefs all the way down, past the tanned, quidditch toned thighs. Harry was very glad in that moment that he worked out.

Draco seemed rather pleased too.

He looked up at Harry deviously before leaning in to ghost his breath over the hypersensitive head of his cock. Harry whimpered and thrust forward helplessly, seeking any kind of friction. He felt as if he were losing his mind.

Draco smiled, again leaning forward to let his words ghost over Harry's prick.

"You know by now that I did this to you, right? This hard on-" a perfectly pink tongue darted out to flick at the head of the weeping cock in front of him, "belongs to me."

Harry threw his head back and groaned. Draco couldn't possibly know that being possessed by him was one of his biggest and most frequently used masturbatory fantasies.

At this point, Draco stood, chuckling darkly, hands skimming along the flanks of Harry's lean torso, before he leaned into Harry's ear.

"Except that I do know that, Harry. I've gotten very, very good at legillimency over the past year. I know the ins and outs of every dirty thought you have. And I know they're all about me."

Harry shivered and tried to retreat, but Draco held him fast, pulling Harry's hips firm against his own. Harry's legs began to shake and he buried his head in Draco's neck, impossibly grateful for the wonderful pressure on his dick. He'd been aching for so long.

"I know. I know exactly what you need, Harry. And I'm going to give it to you. At my leisure. Any time I wish to."

Draco's hands gripped Harry's ass firmly, and he ground forward, his clothed cock against Harry's naked one.

"Right now, you just need to fucking cum. And I-" he bit his lip as he pushed forward again, "I want to watch you fall apart for me."

Harry was so wanton with need that he merely nodded into Draco's shoulder, gasping with surprise when a firm hand pulled his head back.

"I want you to look at me while we frot," Draco said, with particular, naughty emphasis on that last dirty word. Harry moaned lowly, nodding, rocking his hips firmly forward against Draco's clothed hard on.

"Mm, you like that, don't you? Me talking a little dirty? Me being in charge?" Draco said it all with a sinful gleam in his eyes that made Harry's knees weak.

He didn't think he could make his mouth form anything other than moans, so he thought his answer.

Yes. Oh god, yes.

With that, Draco growled, turning them around to press Harry's backside into the chair so he could thrust with more force. Harry clung to Draco, running his hands wherever they could reach, finally settling on his ass to pull him in for the hard, rough thrusts Harry needed to be brought to completion.

I'm there, I'm fucking there, he managed to think.

Draco responded by sinking his teeth into Harry's neck, giving one, two, three hard thrusts before Harry was spilling himself all over Draco's tiny pants. The telltale frenzy of thrusting moments later told Harry that Draco had found his satisfaction too. Merely seconds later, Harry found himself surrounded in the grey mist again before he came to in the once-again filled potions classroom. It looked like he'd been sleeping- there were smudges on his parchment where his face had been.

He would've thought he'd been napping, too, had he not met Draco's eye.

The blonde smirked and mouthed "see you tomorrow" before returning to his notes.

Harry quickly felt his neck- and it was there, a slight, delicious soreness. Right in the place Draco had bitten him.

Oh, yes. Things were about to get very interesting.