Leather

AN: For myparanoidbestfriend—I sound like I'm repeating myself, but I would once more like to make clear that he is mine, not yours. So keep your hands off or I'll gun you down!—I'm sorry it took me so long! There were sparks everywhere and they came really close a couple of time, but it wouldn't quite cut edge so I rewrote the sex-scene... like three times. And it's still no good... so yeah. Love you Lots Darling!

Over the years Draco Malfoy had learned that one should never trust a quiet place at Hogwarts. No matter how quiet they were—it was about to get bad. He had learned that the hard way. There was absolutely no place at Hogwarts where you could go ahead and do your thing. (Your thing being the handling of a rising heat in your trousers.) Not even the dorms were safe. This one time he'd been so fucking close—oh so close—when Blaise had stormed in, claiming that a giant pie was attacking the school. And seriously, even if it was, why the hell would Draco care. A pie. Come on—what's the threat in a pie?

But, sitting behind a grand polished desk, the trouble just might have been worth it. He'd found the perfect place—why had he not thought of this before?—for his little ministrations. No one ever came to the library after hours. Who in his right mind would risk getting lost between dusty old books when it was dark?

...well, Draco, obviously. Though he wasn't in his right mind and seriously needed to jerk off, now.

It was almost completely dark in the room—only one light, hanging high above a single wooden chair. It was silent in the room, and the air thick, he could see the smoke hanging and clouding his vision slightly. Then he heard slow, determent footsteps coming closer, and Draco lost all coherent thought when a boy entered the circle of light. He was topless, his chest slightly tanned and completely unmarred, not exactly muscled but in shape. The thing that put off Draco the most were his trousers—he's wearing trousers? No he shouldn't! I need to get off! Get him naked!—dark, black leather. They clung tightly to his hips, fitting to his body like a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination—such a pretty body it was. And it was merely there to entertain Draco. Just delicious. The boy took big gracious steps to a none-existing beat—those black shoes looked suspiciously much like dancing-shoes—towards the chair. His hips swayed from side to side with every step he took, his hands moving next to him.

He hugged the chair from behind when he reached it, his arms encircling it like it was something else. Locking eyes with Draco the boy's hips moved against the back of the furniture—he could only imagine how good the chair must feel right now—still moving fluently. He dipped down, shaking still and when he got up again he took a step—the sound echoed loud and firm through the room—standing next to it. He dropped through his knees again, and arched his back against the seat. Draco could see his hand gripping onto the leg and his hips thrusting—oh, the boy definitely wasn't thinking about chairs right now.

Getting up he sat himself down sideways on the seat. He leaned over until his back touched the wood and he outstretched his hands in a straight line with his body, swaying them gently. His body stopped moving, and he lifted a leg carefully outstretching it completely. Then he lifted the other one, bent them and stretched them again in a fluent movement. He folded one leg around the back of the chair, and bent his other knee to his chest—then languidly moved it away from his body. Oh, Draco could only imagine what kind of view it would've served him if he'd been on the other side.

The boy gracefully brought his legs together again, and stood. He moved around the chair once, swaying his hips to the unheard music—one hand stroking against the chair's backrest as he did so. Then he paused when his back faced Draco, and dropped through his legs, shaking to the silent beat. Moving his hips in circles he got up again, and leaned forward onto the chair, stiffening his body like a board. Draco saw the muscles in his legs and ass tense as he suddenly spread them wide, lowering onto the floor slowly—he was absolutely entranced by the body moving in front of him. The boy leaned onto his back and put his calves on the chair. His hips moved up and down as his eyes locked with Draco's—they were dark with lust. He fluttered his eyebrows and opened his legs once more—Draco could feel he was getting closer now, movements coming a bit erratic as the boy continued moving his body in that insinuating way. He was just asking for a good fuck. Closing his legs he put his feet to the side of the chair and pushed against it—it slid away with a loud noise. In seconds he was up, swinging his hips as he returned to the furniture.

Sitting down facing Draco he slid a hand up his leg, moving them apart and together again, fast and hard. He could hear the faint sound of the leather-clad thighs slamming together as he repeated his motion. Then he did it again, but left his legs opened—so his hand could move up and stroke over his thigh. He nibbled his fingers teasingly and giving a pleased wink he closed them once more—he was really close now, oh so close.

The boy leaned on his hands, outstretching his whole body and then spreading his legs wide once more, sliding down to sit his ass on the tiles, leaning forward with his chest to the floor. He legibly got to his knees in half a second, and crawled to where Draco was sitting on his own little chair right outside the circle of light. He looked like a predator chasing his prey, big movements as he came closer, fluttering his eyebrows in a mock-gesture of innocence.

When he reached the blonde, he ran a hand teasingly up his thigh—he kissed against Draco's dark jeans and his hand fumbled with the zipper, all while his ass continued swaying. Draco kept his eyes fixed on that nice behind, as it teased him mercifully. And when the boy's perky rose lips wrapped themselves around his dick he just couldn't take it anymore and he—

"Oh Merlin, Harry!" he came with a harsh moan and didn't realise he'd said it out loud, the indecent sound falling from his lips, when—

"What?" A voice called in question.

"What what?" His eyes snapped open in pure shock, the image ruined by reality—someone had heard and... fuck.

The boy that'd been in tight leather seconds before emerged from behind a bookrack, frowning at the blonde. Draco gulped.

"What are you doing here?" Potter held a thick Astronomy book to his chest, and Draco figured he'd been doing homework—the bench he was sitting at on the other hand, was completely empty, and he saw Harry tip up in eyebrow in question as he realised this. Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He blushed pink as Potter came closer, still frowning.

"Are you..." Draco tried in vain to zip up his pants before he'd be discovered, but by the time his shaking hand even reached his zipper Harry wheeled his chair around. "Oh Merlin—" he dropped his book in surprise and Draco groaned—fuck, fuck, fuck. "Were you jerking off thinking of me?"

At this Draco glared—yes, he had been! But that stupid Potter and his stupid pride, immediately jumping to such conclusions. Couldn't that boy keep his mind out the gutter!

"Don't flatter yourself." He stood, tucking himself up again.

"I don't have to—you moaned my name," Harry smirked suddenly, and Draco was seriously frightened. A smirking Potter could not be a good thing. "Don't sweat it—loads of people jerk off thinking about me," Draco glared again. That good-for-nothing bastard... though of course, he was good for something, obviously. His eyes flared with that dark-green tad, and he stepped closer, whispering hoarsely: "it's the first time I return the favour though."

"I wasn't..." he faltered when he realised what Harry had just said. Wait... "What?"

"You heard me," Harry grinned deviously. "So, are we moving or should I coo you into it?"

Draco glared again—stupid Potter. How dare he play with him like that? The bastard. He'd just have to teach that boy a lesson. So without further notice he wrapped his arms around that prick's hips and kissed him hard and long.

When they parted he was pleased to see he'd reddened Harry's lips and cheeks—he looked rather cute when he was flushed like that. Before the raven could protest he drew the body close again and attached their lips once more—nibbling at the bottom one as he tasted the boy. They stood silent for a while, hands forcing their bodies to stay close and to not part, until Harry drew back for breath—he gasped softly, trying to get some air back into his lungs.

Draco was pleased with himself—that would show him. He waited for his breath to become less erratic, before he closed in to put his mouth to the other's again—only this time Harry shook his head, and pushed Draco down on his chair. The blonde watched as Harry kicked off his shoes quickly, and pulled his green sweater off over his head. He also removed his white undershirt, and then looked at Draco again, grinning slightly.

"That was a bit too quick to count as a real show you know." Draco said, tipping up his eyebrow.

Harry shrugged, taking off his socks too.

"There's no time for a show—we're in the library, Filtch comes here every hour or so," he trembled as he put his bare feet down on the cold tiles, and winked at Draco before coming over. "I can give you a show later—in that convenient headboy's room of yours."

Draco smirked and hooked his finger in the boy's jeans, pulling him down onto his lap. Harry straddled his waist and the blonde left a kiss against his shoulder.

"Don't think that I'm gonna hurry just because Filtch might show up," he slid his lips down to a nipple—the skin there was darker then on his chest, and he kissed it softly, trailing his tongue around it. He grinned when Harry moaned hoarsely. "I don't do quickies in the library. They invented hall-closets for that."

He could feel the silent laughter shake Harry's body and heard it—husky sound filling the air. The boy really was a frisky bastard. He pressed his hand against Harry's stomach, right above the hem of his jeans, and his body arched into the touch, his back flexing to get closer to Draco. The lips that had been against his chest sucked onto the spot right under his jawline, leaving a red mark that Harry knew he wouldn't be able to hide—the blonde had conveniently marked him, because not even turtle-necks reached that high. Draco's free hand caressed Harry's spine—he knew his body didn't know which way to bend: closer to the hand against his stomach or the one against his back? And he loved how it made Harry moan again, gasping at the sensation.

After he'd let his mouth trail down, all over the tanned chest—leaving red marks everywhere—he released Harry and grabbed his thighs instead, forcing him to get up a bit. Draco bit into his jeans—the front was now conveniently situated right in front of his face—and unzipped them with his teeth. Harry shook with tension and groaned again, waiting for Draco to pull his trousers down. He immediately pulled his boxers down too, until they rested around Harry's knees. Harry fumbled a bit to get them off a bit more, but he didn't succeed—they stayed stuck against his knees—and Draco chuckled at his antics, kissing his thigh—he stilled and looked down at Draco.

Draco leered up seductively, and gave the boy an experimental lick—Harry's face contorted with pleasure and he cried out loudly when Draco repeated the motion, slowly sucking Harry into his mouth. He slid his tongue up and down Harry's length before taking him in completely, humming softly. Harry's hands turned into fists, his knuckles becoming white as he bit back another loud groan—he kept on staring down at the blonde, admiring the sight of those pink lips wrapping themselves around his member. Draco slowly pulled back, gave his tip a lick and grinned up—Harry whined at the loss of contact, pleading him to continue.

Their eyes locked and Draco sat him down in his lap again, connecting their lips. For a small second he pressed his palm against Harry's crotch and he gasped loudly, tipping his head back again. Draco grinned and thrust his hips up, forcing Harry's down at the same time—it only caused Harry to moan even louder, purring softly with his head thrown back. He kissed Harry's neck, nibbling softly against it and pressed down again, while grinding against him. When he stopped abruptly Harry looked at him with wide, pleading eyes. Draco just smirked and ceased all movements.

"Oh come on," Harry whined, trying to move his hips, but Draco held them firmly. "It's not fair you got off tonight and I didn't," he put his head against Draco's chest, breathing hot air against his neck—then he put his lips to Draco's ear, begging softly. "Please fuck me," Draco's body shivered at the thought—that'd be so good. "Make me yours," his hand undid Draco's front, kissing his earlobe at the same time. "Please just fuck me."

Draco grinned, and allowed him to push down his pants and boxers a bit, freeing his own erection. Then he rubbed Harry's hips softly, and let one of his hands slide to the boy's own dick, some precome forming at the tip. He dipped his fingers against it and easily slipped his hand back to Harry's behind, gliding his wet fingers between his buttocks. He rubbed them against Harry's entrance while his other hand lubricated his member with his own precome. Harry's voice filled the air as he cursed and purred and moaned at the same time—grinding down onto Draco's fingers, but Draco didn't feel like taking too much time, so instead he pulled his hand away.

"You wanted quick Love," he purred softly against Harry's chest and the boy's eyes shot open in shock—he knew what was coming next. Draco forced him to sit up again, before situating his hips above his dick. "You'll like it, don't worry."

He placed his hands closer to Harry's ass and spread his cheeks apart as he brought him down on his own body—Harry bit his lip groaning softly, and he could feel the boy tense slightly against the odd feeling. He didn't pause though, and continued to push him down slowly—one finger rubbed small circles against his behind to make him feel a bit better, stretching him further.

When he was sat down completely Draco allowed himself to groan softly—he was so tight around him, feeling better then he could have ever imagined. Harry chuckled softly, and kissed the blonde briefly. Then he slowly pulled away, almost letting him slide out again, but Draco's hand against his ass stopped him from doing so, making sure the tip of his cock stayed inside the lithe body on top of him.

They moved slowly against each other, Harry's lips never straying from Draco's neck. Draco kept his hands on Harry's ass, pushing him down faster every time, making him groan loudly with each thrust. The raven kept on whimpering in pleasure against Draco's skin, keeping their chests attached as he slid up and own Draco's body in a fluent manner—driving him nearly insane with lust as he quickened their pace.

The library filled with breathy moans and obscene noises of skin slapping against skin and Draco knew that if anyone was outside in the hall right now they'd be caught immediately—he couldn't find himself caring, because Potter's small frame was deliciously pressed against his own, and his movements were getting a bit shaky. He could see Harry was almost completely worn out—his hair sticking against his sweaty forehead, and his hands slipping over Draco's own sweaty skin.

Under his hands he could feel the muscles in Harry's legs and thighs straining, and he helped the boy move, pushing him up and bringing him down again—it only made him moan harder, lips against Draco's neck. He was really close already, his dick throbbing painfully with every slick move. He could feel Harry's precome dribble against his stomach as their bodies stayed glued together and with a last hard thrust the boy came, screaming his name and throwing back his head.

Draco didn't need more then his name falling from those perky lips and he followed immediately after, coming deep inside the smaller body. He could feel Harry's mouth still against his neck, breathing heavily against his pale skin. He didn't move off though, and Draco stayed happily nestled inside him, kissing his head softly.

"Was I..." Harry began breathlessly, lifting his head to look up at the blonde—his lips were swollen from their hard kisses, and Draco brought his thumb to touch against the bottom one lightly. "Was I good?"

Draco chuckled at the question, bringing Harry's mouth against his own once more—though now softer and more tender then before.

"Mmm," he mumbled, nuzzling the black hair. "You did very good," he felt Harry's smile against his chest, and he shifted a bit in his lap—the move made Draco harden again and Harry moaned softly. Draco shrugged—well, that boy was really just asking for a good shag. "We should get you leather trousers though. They'd look good on you."

Harry looked up sceptically at the remark, brought his lips to Draco's ear and whispered huskily: "later. I'd like you to fuck me silly first."

And who was Draco to deny him?

AN: during what I call 'the jerk-off-image' when it's in normal (not in italics), it means it's Draco's mind interrupting during his imagination and jerking off. You know what I mean? Oh, never mind. Also excuse me for Headboy's room. That's something I made up a really long time ago when I needed a place for James and Lucius to shag—so yeah.