Warning: Here comes the explicit sex, you're welcome.
One day left.
Tomorrow he would board the train and hopefully never again lay eyes on the boy who lived just to torment him. 'Today, however, Draco would have to look at Potter, and he would have to do it a lot.
"This is stupid. It should be voluntary to stay after the last exam." Draco complained on the way to the quidditch-pitch.
"Technically, I suppose it is voluntary, it's not like they would try and stop you if you left." Pansy answered pragmatically. Draco had forgiven her for the stunt she had pulled during the potions exam only after she had sworn to never interfere in his personal life again and given him her most expensive set of quills.
They were heading for the annual 'friendly' quidditch match between the graduating students of Gryffindor and Slytherin. Before lunch, they had watched a painfully quick slaughter of the Ravenclaws by the surprisingly coordinated Hufflepuffs. Ravenclaw had a few strong players, but Hufflepuff lived up to their name and was better at working together even with no practise. Draco feared that the afternoon-game would be just as quick, considering Gryffindor had their star players; Potter and both the youngest Weasleys. Together with Thomas, they were practically half a quidditch-team with the precious experience of training together. Draco had not played quidditch since his sixth year, and still he was probably their best asset. Of the graduating Slytherins, only Theo was on the team, and he was an average beater. Pansy was an excellent flyer, but sadly she refused to do anything that involved messing up her hair or sweating in public and therefore refused to play.
They entered the pitch a couple of minutes later than they should have, both teams already assembled in front of Madame Hooch.
"Break a leg – but not literally because you're ogling your opponent." Pansy said with a smirk as she hurried of towards the stands. He glared at her, but didn't dare to shout a reply in case someone would hear him.
Draco sauntered over to his classmates, some of them giving him disapproving looks that he ignored.
"Nice of you to show up." Theo muttered in his ear, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"What's the point, we're about to get crushed." Draco mumbled back, only listening with half an ear to Hooch's lecture about fair play.
"You don't know that."
"Of course I know it, they have four team-members on their side, what do we have? One and a half?" Draco was annoyed. He wished he hadn't signed up for the stupid match. He had never won over Potter fair and square, and his chances of beating him to the snitch wasn't exactly flourishing at the moment.
"Yeah, but look who took the other places." Theo smirked.
Draco had done his best to ignore the scarlet-clad group in order to keep his eyes off Potter for once, but now he curiously scrutinized them. He couldn't hold back a laugh.
"Granger and Longbottom? And who's the girl?"
"Romilda Vane, she's part of Potter's fan-club, I heard that she once gave him a blowjob while flying over the forest." Theo whispered gleefully. Draco's breath hitched in his throat, right now was not the time to think of Potter and blowjobs in the same sentence.
He desperately tried to look everywhere but at the Gryffindor seeker as he mounted his broom, ready to take off. A welcome distraction came in the form of Toby Curtis, currently playing chaser, trying to haze the Gryffindor's by shouting:
"Hey Weasley! How does it feel to play with at least two people you've slept with? Got a fetish for quidditch-players there, or do you just enjoy creating drama?"
To everybody's surprise it was it was a blushing Ron Weasley who answered, stuttering.
"How do you…? We never… It's not true!"
Granger blushed equally deeply and hid her face in her hands.
"I meant the other Weasley, but it's good to know that you're all a bunch of sluts. Is that how you assembled the team? By only taking in people who you've shagged? Say Longbottom? Who was thick enough to let you bone them?" Curtis continued, causing complete mayhem. Ron threw his broom aside and ran to tackle Curtis as the rest of the team either shouted for him to stop, or shouted at Curtis.
Draco backed away, having no interest in getting in a fistfight where he couldn't blame self-defence. His eyes found Potter, who was trying to hold both Weasleys back, while shouting at Curtis and aiming kick's at Theo, who of course had thrown himself in the front row, never saying no to a fight.
A loud bang was heard, and in a flash, Draco felt his feet freeze to the ground and his mouth glued shut. The same thing appeared to have happened to every single person on the pitch, except for Granger, who held her wand high, and clasped her hand over her mouth, still blushing deeply.
"I'm so sorry Professor, I only tried to help." She squeaked and pointed her wand toward Madame Hooch, who had received the same treatment as everybody else. The teacher was released, however she didn't direct any anger toward her attacker, but concentrated her rage on Curtis.
"Never have I heard such indecent language on the pitch Curtis! You're off the team, and not allowed to watch the match. Go and report to Mr Filch for detention immediately!"
She nodded toward Granger who released him from the ground but apparently kept the mouth-sealing charm as he couldn't protest, but was left no choice but trotting off the pitch, fuming with rage.
"You have three minutes to find a replacement chaser. And if I hear another offensive word, I will not hesitate to cancel the match." She continued in a cold voice.
The teams continued to glare at each other, but no one dared to utter a word. The Slytherins huddled together, quickly discussing their options for a last minute replacement.
"We need Pansy." Theo stated.
"She won't do it." Millicent answered. "We all tried to talk her into it, and if not even Draco succeeded, no one's going to convince her now."
"I am, you just get me another broom." With that, Theo zoomed up to the stands, aiming for the minority of green-clad students. Millicent shook her head, but took off toward the broom-shed anyway.
On the other side of the pitch, Weasley and Granger seemed to be having a quiet argument, Romilda Vane looking smug. Draco assumed she was the one that Weasley had "not" slept with. Potter was talking to Longbottom, who was holding his beater bat all wrong. Suddenly, the odds of Slytherin beating Gryffindor seemed marginally better.
Potter looked up and caught Draco's eye. He glared at him, fists clenched, as if it was Draco who had slut-shamed his entire team. Draco sent him a crooked smile and a wink, enjoying the slight change in the colour of Potters cheeks. He had less than twenty-four hours left in the castle, and Potter seemed to have told no one about the kissing, nor Draco's verita-infused confession that he wished to fuck him. He probably hadn't even picked up on it, thinking it was a flaw in his potion. This gave Draco enough confidence to continue his mild flirting, curious to see Potter's reactions, and Merlin, did he react. If Potter wished to be an auror, he better work on his poker-face.
A loud cheer drew him away from Potter's deliciously blushing face and absent-minded lip-biting. To Draco's great surprise Theo landed next to him, and Pansy elegantly jumped off the back of his broom. She used her wand to tie her hair into a tight ponytail and started to unbutton her dress.
"Give me your robe." She demanded, looking at Draco. He shook his head in protest.
"What am I supposed to wear then?"
She smirked.
"I would say that the less you wear, the bigger distraction you're going to be to the other team. And this is a designer dress, I'm not paying quidditch in it."
"But why mine?" But Draco knew the case was lost as his team-mates looked expectantly at him.
"Because you're the closest in size. Now strip." She shook her robe of her shoulders, earning wolf-whistles and cheers from the audience, and even a couple from the Gryffindor-end of the pitch. Dressed only in some sort of velvety body and high stockings she cast a protective spell over her dress and levitated it toward the changing rooms.
"Fine. How come you changed your mind?" Draco asked as he unbuttoned his robe, feeling self-conscious as he revealed his tight training-trousers and thin tank-top.
"I don't play if I don't have a chance of winning. I've re-evaluated that chance." She answered and stuck her arms in his robe before mounting Theo's brand new firebolt. Of course the prat had used it to bribe her. He hadn't even let Draco touch it, much less fly it."
"Ten seconds 'til take-off!" Came Madame Hooch's voice, magically enhanced.
"Hell yeah, the odds are turning, look at you two! Why didn't we think of using sex-appeal before? Anyone else who could strip off some clothing?" Millicent billowed, winking at Theo who rolled his eyes, but shot a smile at Pansy, who were still showing off a great deal of legs, even under Draco's over-sized robe.
They took off in unison, meeting the opposite team mid-air, all of them hanging there, staring at each other for a couple of suspenseful seconds before Hooch blew the whistle and threw the quaffle in the air. The game took off somewhat clumsily, the players unsure of each other and very far from synchronized, except for Ginny and Dean Thomas, who had played together before, and probably also played some one on one during their relationship two years prior. Luckily Pansy matched Ginny's flying, and on Theo's broom, she was almost unstoppable. She made two goals within the first five minutes, probably thanks to the older Weasley's inability to keep his eyes on the quaffle.
Draco soared over the game, keeping a close eye on Potter, who seemed determined to be as far away from him as possible at all times. This was something Draco found highly curious, it was a dangerous move to stay too far away from the other teams' seeker, especially for the one who was supposed to have the upper hand. If Draco spotted the snitch now, there was no chance for Potter to catch it in time, whereas if they were on the same end of the pitch, Potter would have a greater chance of catching the snitch no matter which one of them who saw it first. He was a better flyer and had a better broom. But Draco was a Slytherin and it was time he put that to use.
He flew in a zig-zag motion, ducking under a stray bludger that Granger and Longbottom both failed to control, with the intention of confronting Potter. If he didn't want Draco close by, that's exactly where Draco would position himself. Potter probably saw what was coming, but there was nothing he could do about it if he wanted to keep an eye out for the snitch.
Draco pretended that he had his eyes on it, just below the other seekers foot, leaving Potter confused as he spun around, trying to spot the golden ball.
"Avoiding me much Potter?" He asked, when he was within earshot from the other.
"Not more than usual. What do you want?" Potter's voice was casual, but he looked like he was going to sprain his neck as he looked everywhere except directly at Draco.
"Well, that's an interesting question, ask me again tonight and I might give you an answer." Draco teased, enjoying the look of confusion on Potter's face.
"You're a prat."
"That's nothing new." Draco answered casually, more interested in studying Potter than looking for the snitch.
"What's new then?"
"You really want me to tell you that?" Draco had absolutely no idea how to continue this conversation, but he didn't want Potter to stop talking to him. Faith however, had other plans as the snitch appeared somewhere twenty feet behind his opponent.
It took every ounce of Dracos' multi-tasking ability to keep his face in Potters' direction, carefully drifting around him to position himself closer to the snitch.
"Yes, please do tell me what the fuck this new bullshit is. I thought you had…" Potter fell silent mid-sentence, he had too, detected the snitch.
In identical motions, they both dove, side by side, their legs touching as they shot through the air. Draco had a couple of inches lead, but he knew he wouldn't keep it unless he could distract Potter.
"You thought what?" He shouted as he tackled the other, his shoulder tingling where they had touched. Potter didn't answer, his eyes completely focused on the snitch, he had probably not even heard Draco. Instead, he tackled him back with such force Draco almost fell off the broom. Draco knew he shouldn't, it was a foul and it would probably earn Gryffindor at least three penalty shots. But Potter was just a couple of feet behind the snitch and he knew there was no way to catch up. He did what he had done once before and gripped the tail of Potters' broom, effectively slowing him down.
Madame Hooch's whistle almost drowned out Potters' cursing. The snitch disappeared once again.
"What the fuck is wrong with you? Can't you just go on and live your life? Do you have to try to destroy mine?" Potter shouted, not looking at the game where Ginny easily scored all four of the penalty shots.
"Isn't that a bit of an exaggeration? It's just a stupid game." Draco rolled his eyes.
"That's not what I meant! You have some sick plan to… I never thought even you would steep this low." Potter seemed to be talking more to himself than to Draco, and suddenly he looked utterly miserable. Draco had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.
"You're delusional Potter, I don't have a great scheme to take you down. Maybe you should see Pomfrey about that paranoia, you don't want to end up like Moody."
"Don't you dare talk about him!"
Pain exploded and Draco almost fell off the broom a second time. Exactly how Potter had been able to get close enough to hit him was unclear. Even though it hurt, it was mostly relief that flooded Dracos' veins, together with the adrenaline. Finally, he had an opportunity to get an outlet for at least one of his desires. Without hesitation he threw himself at Potter, succeeding to place a punch just in the nose. They were a mess of unsteady brooms and shouting but before they knew it, they were forcefully drawn to the ground by a very angry madame Hooch.
"Seriously! I've never seen a graduation-game turn this bad! It's supposed to be for fun and unity for Merlin's sake!"
Draco entered the great hall a good half hour after the rest of the school, since he in no way intended to allow a stupid detention stop him from looking impeccable. Filch had made him scrub the fifth floor bathroom, but since he had two other detentions to monitor, he didn't need to know that Draco had only cleaned one sink by hand, and the rest by magic.
As he sat down at the Slytherin-table, the other graduating Slytherins glared at him, making him assume that they had lost the game. Only Blaise greeted him with a smile and a pat on the back.
"Totally unfair to put you in detention, it was Potter who started the fight." He said in a light tone as Draco sat down between him and Pansy, who refused to look at him.
"Yeah. I assumed we lost? With how much?" Draco asked as he loaded his plate with roast beef and baked potatoes.
"About two hundred points, Weasley caught the snitch. Pansy is not happy she had to play seeker."
Draco knew Pansy hated the seeker-position and mentally settled in for being treated like air for the reminder of their Hogwarts-time. Not that he minded much, he was counting down the hours until the train would depart. He didn't even feel bitter about the blue and bronze colours that adorned the hall, his Slytherin patriotism was over.
"I think it's worth it though, getting to punch Potter in the face." Blaise smirked and nodded toward the Gryffindor table.
A familiar pair of eyes met his, the piercing green surrounded by a slight purple on one side. It didn't look too bad, Draco himself sported a swollen lip that hurt every time he took a bite. He felt a weird sinking feeling in his stomach as Potter's eyes were full of the most raging hate he had seen in years. He had probably made up an insane theory about what Draco might be up to, and apparently landed on something that could destroy Potter's life? Draco was intrigued, what could he have imagined Draco would do?
When the last traces of dessert had left their plates and McGonagall had held a sentimental speech, the students hustled towards the doors. Seeing that Potter lingered at the table, Draco had a potentially terrible idea, but he had to know.
As the last students moved towards the exit, he covered his wand with his sleeve, and aimed for Potter's feet, nonverbally untying his shoelaces.
The trippinghex was trickier, and he accidentally tripped two other students, disrupting the crowd. Thankfully, Potter was among the last students to exit the hall, he swore as he tripped, other students immediately cutting him off from his friends. He kneeled, making sure to secure both his shoelaces, giving Draco plenty of time to catch up with him.
"You're wrong you know." Draco muttered in a low voice when he was right behind him.
Potter jumped and spun around.
"Did you trip me?" Potter looked unnecessarily annoyed by this thought. "Wrong about what?" He continued, as he stopped his steps just outside the door to the entrance hall, a few students cast curious glances at them, but most of them had already departed toward their respective common rooms.
"You think you have figured something out. You haven't." Draco wasn't sure what made him want to make this clear, he just knew that the kiss/punch-desire wasn't in any way subsided just because he had executed both.
"Really? So, your plan isn't to snoop in my private life so you can sell a juicy story to witch weekly? Even with all the shit that you've done, that's some rotten morals you…" Potter spoke in an angry whisper, looking over his shoulder around the now empty hallway. Draco interrupted him.
"That's your grand theory? It's bloody ridiculous." Draco moved two steps toward Potter in an attempt to loom over him with the one inch he had on the other boy. Gryffindor at heart the other didn't back away, but looked him straight in the eye. Tension crackling like static between them.
"Well, it's not going to work because I'm not gay or anything."
Draco cocked an eyebrow "Really? So that's just a drunk thing you do then?"
Potter's gaze shifted uncomfortably, but he didn't back away.
Draco continued: "Because if it is, maybe you should get drunk more often." He winked, pleased to see Potter blushing. It was less than twelve hours left until he would be leaving the castle for good, Draco made the rash decision that he did in fact have very little to lose.
"Scared, Potter?" He asked, his face only an inch from Potters', desperately fighting the urge to kiss him, and at the same time deciding that he should.
Potter swallowed and let out a shaky breath that tickled Draco's cheek, sending shivers down his spine.
"Why?" he asked in an unsteady voice.
Draco leaned in even closer, and whispered almost inaudible in Potters ear:
" Because, if you were gay, I would suck your cock so good you'd think you flew to Jupiter and back, and then I'd have my way with you until you'd beg me to fuck you. And who knows Potter, maybe I would be generous enough to do just that."
Draco felt hands tugging roughly at the front of his shirt, and he wasn't sure if he was expecting a fist or a mouth, but neither made contact with his face. Instead, he was magically forced backwards.
"It is the last day in this castle! You are both adults by law. I can't believe you still get into petty fights, and for the second time today! I am extremely disappointed in you."
Draco's brain seemed to work slower than usual, and it took him several seconds to realize that it was McGonagall who had forced them apart, and now was reprimanding them for something that wasn't even true. Not that Draco had plans to correct her. And judging by the look of Potters' face, which was blushing crimson, neither did he.
And that's how Draco found himself being escorted back to his dorm like a naughty first year.
He slept badly. Tossing and turning he shifted between regretting his uncensored statement and just regretting that he hadn't conveyed it earlier. When morning came, he was in a foul mood, wanting not only to punch Potter, but everyone else as well. Breakfast was a tedious ordeal. Pansy was still ignoring him, but kept loudly chatting with Theo who sat on the other side of Draco, making it hard to even hear himself think. Potter was not in the great hall, which was probably for the best since Draco apparently had dropped all self-control around him and might snog him senseless on top of the breakfast-table if the opportunity would present itself.
However, when Draco didn't see Potter in the entrance hall, or among the carriages down to Hogsmeade, he didn't think it was for the best anymore. Would Potter blushing in the entrance hall be the last image of him that Draco ever saw? The satisfaction of leaving Hogwarts was unexpectedly tainted and Draco cursed under his breath as he hurled his trunk onto the train. Even if he saw Potter now it wasn't like he could stroll into his compartment and ask Weasley and Granger to leave, even if the thought of Potter handling that situation was amusing.
As the train began to move, a heavy rain started to fall. Soon the running drops on the window clouded the vision too much to grumpily stare out on the moving landscape, something Draco had planned to do for quite some time. When condensation started to build on the window, he started to feel claustrophobic. Theo and Blaise were playing a loud game of exploding snaps, and Pansy was sprawled out over three seats with her feet in Theos lap, reading a battered copy of Witch Weekly, sometimes out loud. Without excusing himself he exited the compartment and set off in the direction of the back of the train, for no other reason than that he couldn't seem to keep still. He felt twitchy and uneasy and longed for time to pass so he could take his broom for a flight over Malfoy Manor.
Suddenly, a compartment door to his left banged open and Draco found his path blocked by an invisible mass.
"Malfoy." The air in front of him greeted.
"Potter?" Draco groped in front of him and seized a handful of a familiar, flimsy material. But before he could pull the invisibility cloak off the other, he felt a hand clasp his wrist.
"Get in. Now." The voice was low and husky, and Draco didn't need to be told twice.
Inside the compartment the curtains were drawn on both the door and the window, and a sudden lack of voices and thundering rain told Draco that it was protected by a silencing charm. The door slammed shut and Harry Potter materialized out of seemingly nothing. His hair was usually tousled and his cheeks were flushed with a deep red, but what was most tantalizing was his eyes. They were dark and filled with determination and for once Draco found himself speechless. And in the next moment he found himself pushed against the window, a pair of lips pressed against his own.
Kissing a sober Potter was a hundred times better than kissing an intoxicated one. Draco´s senses seemed to be enhanced a hundred times. He ran his fingers through Potter´s hair and his fingertips seemed to memorize every single hair on his head. The texture was rough, as if he had never used conditioner in his life (which was probably the case), yet impossibly soft. Draco tried a gentle tug, and was granted with a low moan in response. Rough yet smooth seemed to be a reoccurring texture of Potter´s features as their tongues met and cautiously explored one another. Potter tasted strongly of peppermint pastilles, which led Draco to the satisfying thought that he had planned this for a while. The taste however, was nothing to the scent. Without the distraction of booze, smoke and seaweed, Potter´s scent was like the strongest amortentia. Draco reluctantly left Potter´s lips to trail along his cheekbone and land somewhere behind his ear, where he inhaled deeply. He had never thought that the smell of cheap shampoo and firewood would make him dizzy, but now he couldn't imagine a more pleasant scent.
Then Potters leg found its way in between Draco´s thighs and he thought no more. He just let himself experience. For the first time in his life, he didn't seek control. He happily gave Potter´s mouth access to his mouth and neck, and his hands access to his hair, his chest and for a wonderful moment, his arse.
To Draco, kissing had always been like a sport, two persons battling for dominance, a competition of who was the best. Now it felt like an artform, where they together explored what the unification of their bodies could be.
Potter's fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt and it seemed to take forever before it fell open and gave Potter access to his naked chest, his impossibly warm hands exploring every bit of skin he found. Draco reluctantly retracted from the kissing so he could pull the loose t-shirt over the other's head.
It wasn't the first time he saw the other man shirtless, but it was the first time that he could shamelessly devour every inch of his toned torso. He ran his fingertips over the golden skin, pausing to twist a hardening nipple, earning a gasp in response. Potter's hands mimicked Draco's and took the same path down his chest, to push his fingertips under the waistband of his jeans. Here Potter suddenly hesitated, his fingers lingered on the top button.
'He has never done this before.' Draco thought, 'at least not with a boy.'
With that thought he closed the gap between them, pressing their naked chests together in wonderful skin contact. With one hand on the other's lower back, and one hand tangled in his hair, he kissed him, softer this time, in an attempt to slow down the pace, despite his raging erection. Apparently, Potter had never heard of such a thing as slowing it down, because he put his hands in Draco's back pockets and thrusted his pelvis forward, rubbing their cocks together through the rough fabric of their jeans. As he did so, he groaned
"Oh God yes." into Draco's mouth, basically melting Draco from within.
When Potter kept up the enthusiasm, but lingered questioningly on the hem of Draco's trousers, Draco decided that it was time to take back some control. With a firm grip on Potter's hips, he spun them around, pressing Potter up against the cool window and left his lips to trail kisses along his jaw up to his ear where Draco tentatively bit Potter's earlobe, earning a gasp in response. Encouraged by heavy breathing and the occasional curse, Draco kissed his way down Potter's torso, stopping at both nipples to make sure they were hard and tender before moving down the toned stomach until he rested his lips just above the button on the other's jeans.
Draco, now on his knees, looked up.
"Do you want me to continue?" He asked, his fingers lingering on the hem.
Potter looked like he was about to come undone there and then.
"Yes, please, no, yes. I mean yes. Do… Yes continue." He rambled, cheeks flushed and glasses askew.
Draco's cock twitched.
Very slowly he unbuttoned the trousers, his lips trailing kisses along the hem of the underwear, before he tugged both the jeans and the pants down, revealing a throbbing cock with a neat set of black curls above.
Moving even slower, he put his lips on the inside of Potter's thigh, lightly threading kisses over his groin, avoiding the more sensitive area just to make the other shiver in anticipation and continue his incoherent rambling.
"Please, touch me, kiss me, just do something. For fuck's sake just continue you bloody tease!"
Potter begging for his touch was the best sound Draco had ever heard. It made his cock throb and his insides melt to nothing until he was nothing but a shell who existed only for the other's pleasure.
Usually, he was all for a quick release, but now he never wanted the reaction to stop, and he remembered his promise as he made an elaborate show of licking the underside of Potter's cock as his palm cradled his balls, fingers reaching further back to press against the others prostate from the outside. He earned panting moans as he swirled his tongue around the head and teasingly blew hot air over it.
"I'm going to… I'm sorry, I can't… I will… Can you just…?"
As incoherent as ever, Potter shivered and tensed under Draco's touch and tongue, and since it seemed too late to drag the moment out even longer, Draco wrapped his lips around the cock in front of him and in one swift motion, took the entire length in his mouth.
The sounds Potter made as he came made Draco regret that he had his face buried against the other's stomach. At the moment he was prepared to give anything to see Potter's face, but he stayed put because apparently, he was prepared to give more to make sure Potter received the most possible pleasure.
"Did you just apologize AND beg for mercy? I will savour this moment." Draco smirked as he looked up and into Potter's eyes, which sported pupils as large as galleons.
"Says the guy on his knees." Potter countered, but his voice was breathless and his face delicately flushed.
"Well, I'm not ashamed of that, mister I'm not gay or anything." Draco said as he stood up, his left leg awkwardly sleeping.
"Fine, I am gay, now take of your pants." Potter demanded as he kicked his own off his ankles.
Draco wasn't late to comply, and then they were tangled in yet another a passionate kiss. This time with full skin-contact from their lips to their toes.
Apparently, Potter was not one of those guys who lost all lust the moment he came, on the opposite, his prick didn't even go fully soft before it hardened again.
Before Draco had time to think of their next step, Potter unceremoniously dropped to the floor and took Draco's cock in his mouth without hesitation. Merlin, if only Draco had been this fearless his first time with a man. He wondered if all Gryffindors fucked like this or if it was just a war-hero thing.
He had to stop himself from rambling the same incoherent nonsense as Potter had, as the other altered between sucking hard and bobbing his head back and forth, ignoring the occasional gag. He was inexperienced, but that didn't mean it wasn't the best blowjob Draco had ever received. After some time he had to pull back, not wanting the experience to end just yet. He pulled Potter to his feet, kissing him once more, his hands in his unruly hair, pulling him as close as possible.
Potter suddenly backed away, and reached for his jeans. Draco's stomach dropped. This was it? Had Potter gotten his experiment over with and remembered that he in fact hated Draco? Or was it an elaborate punishment? To leave Draco unsatisfied? That seemed far fetched, Potter still sported an impressive erection and didn't look like he was done with Draco. He didn't put his pants back on, instead he found his wand, pointing it to the seats, transfiguring them to stretch out in a bed-like manner. Draco let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He laid down on the temporary bed, it was lumpy and slightly slanting.
"Merlin, you're bad at transfiguration." He said with a smirk, stretching out, arms behind his head, with feigned confidence. Draco didn't exactly dislike his body, but the compartment was very well lit, and the fear of abandonment lingered.
"Shut up." Potter muttered, crawling up beside him.
"Bossy, I like it."
With a swift movement, Potter had straddled his hips and caught his wrists over his head.
"Really? Tell me what else you like?"
Holy fuck, that courage was intoxicating.
"Well, I don't mind this." Draco answered, bucking his hips, making their cocks grind against each other. Potter hummed in appreciation, then hesitantly started
"Yesterday you said…" he was blushing furiously, but kept eye contact.
Draco remembered very clearly.
"I say many things." He said cryptically, leaning up to trail kisses along the others jawline.
"You said you could make me beg you to fuck me." Potter whispered, almost inaudible, before biting down on Draco's neck, making him gasp in surprise.
"I took you to Jupiter and back, didn't I?" Draco teased as he scraped his nails along Potter's back, letting his hand land on his ass.
"Maybe, but usually you're all words and no action, I just wonder if you're no longer up to the task."
Draco had never been more up to a task in his entire life. He rolled them around, almost making them fall of the seats in his eagerness to be on top.
"Oh, I can make you beg, and for that, I will make you beg nicely." He said in a dark voice, before kissing the other man hard as he settled between his legs. Once again, he kissed his way down his torso, this time with his hands on Potter's thighs, first trailing light as a butterfly from his knees to his groin and then back up again. He took his time, working each leg with more and more pressure, until he was massaging the upper thighs, his thumbs lightly gracing the sensitive area behind his scrotum.
Draco watched Potter closely, trying to memorize every aspect of his face as he panted and moaned, bit his lip and gasped, all under the subtle manipulation of Draco's hands. He had never felt so powerful and so dependent on someone else at the same time, and he had never seen such an arousing sight.
"For fuck's sake, just continue you bloody prat. I am ready you idiot." Potter had started his rambling again, as Draco circled his hole with his index finger, still excruciatingly slowly. Really, he should win a prize for his patience.
Potter's wand was tucked between the cushions, and since Draco didn't want to interrupt his activity to find his own, he reached for it, using it to conjure a generous amount of lube. The wand felt warm and familiar, even though he had never used it before, it felt as good as his own.
Very carefully, scrutinizing Potter's face for signs of hesitation or discomfort, he slid his finger inside. Instead, Potter's face filled with utter bliss, and he bucked his hips, trying to find friction against Draco. But he used his other hand to hold him steady, if Potter wanted to beg, he would have to beg properly. He held his hand completely still for several moments, earning frustrated groans from the other. Then he started to move as slowly as he could muster.
Green eyes met his, desperation plastered all over Potter's face. He was covered in sweat and goosebumps, and Draco had never seen anyone look so beautiful.
"Please." He whispered.
It took Draco's entire amount of self-preservation to not give Potter whatever he could possibly wish for.
"Please what?" He asked. But his voice trembled with desire.
"Please, fuck me." Draco's stomach made a back flip and he almost came just from hearing the words.
"I said maybe. Try 'please Draco'." Draco tested his luck, holding his breath. Potter glared at him.
"Please Draco, I need your cock inside me, now!"
That was a plea Draco couldn't have ignored even if his life depended on it. He adjusted his position and replaced his finger with his length, slowly sliding in, giving the other time to adjust. Potter's hands found his arse and pushed him even further in, making them both moan out loud. Draco let go of the control and let Potter guide his thrusts in an increasing pace he knew he wouldn't be able to keep up with for very long.
He reached down to grab the cock between them, stroking it in time with his thrusts.
"Oh fuck Draco, I'm going to come, please don't stop." Potter breathed, thrashing under him, and Draco bit down hard on his own lip, trying to hold his own orgasm back until Potter clenched around him with a stifled groan. Finally, he let go and came balls deep in the other, wave after wave of pleasure washing over him, making him actually see stars.
Draco collapsed on top of Potter, and they lay there panting, sweaty and sticky.
He reached for Potter's wand again, rather liking the feeling of how it collaborated with his magic, and cast a quick scourgify before conjuring a blanket. They settled side by side, an uncertain silence filling the air.
"You know…" Draco said hesitantly.
"If you're still not sure whether you're gay or not, and need to experiment a bit more, you could send me an owl."
"Really, how generous of you to be of such service." Potter smirked.
"Well, I'm known to be very generous you know." Draco stated haughtily.
"I bet I could make you beg for my cock next time." Potter said boldly.
Draco's breath got stuck in his throat. There would be a next time.
"We'll see about that, shall we."
