HARRY POTTER AND DRACO MALFOY

Part I

"Not on your life," sneered Malfoy, "Potter."

"Bogger off, Malfoy."

"Suck my dick, Scar-head."

Draco's insults had been sexually explicit as of late, and his conversations—easily overheard by any person walking by the blonde and his subjects—had turned almost desperately loathing of the Golden Boy. Harry had begun to take the brunt of Draco's overly sexualized loathing.

"Suck it yourself." Harry retorted, in rather poor taste.

"Your lips'd be better."

Harry walked away, or at least made to. Draco walked with Harry, keeping pace with him.

"C'mon Potter, at least give 'er a kiss," Draco whined.

"Fuck off Malfoy." Harry said, each word clearly angry.

"I can just imagine what your lips would feel like—wrapped around my dick." Draco taunted.

"Good, that ought to be enough to get you off. Now leave me, the fuck, alone."

"No," Draco said, "it's not good enough anymore—I want the real thing."

Harry found himself cornered, Draco encroaching on his personal space. Harry made the mistake of turning around. Draco's cashmere cloak split widely, revealing his torso. His dick hanging freely from the fly of his trousers.

"C'mon Harry, taste it." Draco implored.

"Back the fuck up Malfoy." Harry said his voice clearly angry and scared. Pulling his wand from his cloak pocket, unnoticeably. Harry motioned to curse Draco, only to find his wand blown from his hand by a nonverbal Expelliarmus.

"Just a taste Potter, I know you'll like it."

Harry woke up. Panting, scared, and the hair noticeably risen on his body. That was one hell of a dream, he thought.

His prick was stiff, rigid with the thought of that cock he had seen in his dream. If only that's what Draco's dick looked like, Harry thought. In truth, Harry had never seen more than the outline of Draco's flaccid cock—straining against his, obviously a size too small, trousers.

Part II

Harry was cornered, in the corner, with Draco nearing closer.

"Just a taste Harry, c'mon." Draco whined.

Harry tried backing away, instinctually that was, though reality wouldn't have it.

"A touch at least, Harry, a touch." Draco whined as he grabbed Harry's hand—trying to force it to his cock. Harry tensed up, his hand breaking free of Draco's grasp slapped the wall behind Harry with a loud plop.

"Harry . . ." Draco whined, "just a touch."

Harry hadn't anywhere to go, nothing to do, he was as helpless as the Halloween after his first birthday.