Disclaimer: The characters and settings used in this story belong to the illustrious J.K. Rowling. I may have taken slight liberties with their personalities and/or appearances, and I mean no harm whatsoever by doing so. No copyright infringement is intended and absolutely no money is being made by my writing this.

Blaise and Harry

Had Harry been in his right mind, this situation never would have arisen. As things stood, however, he was most assuredly not in his right mind: Harry Potter was shitfaced drunk, courtesy of Ogden's Old Firewhisky. And he was in Blaise Zabini's bedroom, alone with the other boy.

"Come on, Potter. Suck it!"

"Sh-shhhure thing, Za-HIC-bini," Harry slurred in response.

He unzipped the other boy's trousers and drew out his cock. Harry's mouth dropped open in awe, and Blaise thrust his hips forward encouragingly.

"Like what you see, Potter?" Harry nodded. "Then suck it!"

And Harry eagerly did just that.