Draco's got a headache so bloody awful, you'd think that he'd have gone out for a run in with the Whomping Willow.
He sets his charms book to the side and sighs. There's no way he'll be able to focus on homework now, even though exams are hardly a month away. He's got half a mind to go and ask Theo for more Dittany, say that it's for the Mark, but the pain had ebbed away after that first day. He jumps, startled, as the door opens to the empty dorm, lays back in a huff when he sees who it is.
"Bloody hell Blaise, I've managed to avoid you for this long, don't you think that you could give me enough time to crawl out the window? A five minute head start, at least," Draco says.
Draco almost wishes that Blaise had reacted like Weasley, which was a somewhat normal reaction to finding out your poof of a best friend is shagging his enemy.
But instead, Blaise had cocked a brow, licked his lips, and said, "It's no wonder you fuckers are shagging, you're the most bloody fit boys in our year. Well, besides me. It'd be tragic if you weren't hooking up, really." Potter had been absolutely mortified when Blaise had gone on to say, "Oi, I didn't know you were bent, Potter. I'd have gone for you too." He'd paused, grinning, "Say, mate, do you call Potter's prick Golden Boy or The Chosen One?"
He'd been entirely too blasé about the whole thing, but then, that's how Zabini acts about everything, the wanker.
That's how he is now, too, as he struts in and stretches out on Draco's bed.
"Why do you care that I know, Draco?" He yawns. "It's not as if I don't have my fair share of dirty little secrets." He smirks, "Some of them even Gryffindor."
Draco shakes his head. "I don't know why I care. We're just fucking."
Blaise raises a brow, "That looked like a lot less fucking and a lot more cuddling," Blaise teases. Draco hits him with a pillow, but it's half-hearted. He's not sure what he and Potter are doing, but Blaise is right that it's more. Theo had told him that day on the bathroom floor that the person they give you to torture is supposed to resemble the person you care most about. That Draco could feel like that towards Harry fucking Potter- well, that scares him.
"Are you sure you don't have veela in you, Malfoy? You certainly could if you're able to land a sweet thing like Potter."
Draco scrunches his nose, "Don't call him a sweet thing, that gross."
Blaise laughs, "You know that's what you're thinking when his mouth is around your-" He hits him with the pillow again, his face hot. Still, the thought makes him think of earlier that day, when what could have been a lovely blowjob turned into a shitfest. His headache returns, and he rubs at his temples, willing it away.
Blaise looks at him inquisitively, "What's up, mate?"
Draco presses his fingers into his eyes, grunting, "The weasel caught Potter and me today."
Blaise sits up, " Caught you? Like, caught you kissing, or-"
"Caught us as in, Potter was- how did you put it? Being a sweet thing. "
"Oh, Merlin, that's disgusting when you add Ronald Weasley into it, jesus." Blaise waves his hands, disgusted. "How did Weasley react? Not as well as I did, I take it."
"Not even close. Said some shit I'd expect to hear from my Father, really, not Potter's sodding best mate."
"Well, I mean, he is cheating on the Weaselette with you. Can't imagine that Won-Won is keen on that." Draco flinches, hating that Blaise is right. He wouldn't care if it weren't for the fact that the whole thing is driving Potter insane with guilt.
Theo comes in for a moment, and they fall silent, watching him as he grabs a book and walks back out.
Blaise leans in close. "So how did it start, D? This whirlwind romance you're having."
Draco thinks back to the Sectumsempra incident, to his note, angry though it was, that requested that Potter come meet him in the forest by the lake. He'd wanted to show Potter the scars, bright and pink and angry.
He hadn't expected Potter to reach out and touch them, to break down into tears.
Draco clears his throat and looks away, "It was just… one of those things, you know?" he prods at Blaise's side with his foot. "Now get the hell of my bed, you sodding smeg head."
Blaise laughs, complying.
"Smeg head? What the hell is that?" He asks. Draco reclines, grinning.
"Weasley is our king, mate, Weasley is our king."
Draco's bloody well determined to get exam scores as good as Granger's this year, Brightest Witch of Our Age be damned, so he's on his way to the library once again, when he hears Weasley, the obtuse pile of dung that he is, down a vacant corridor.
Draco casts a quick concealment charm over his presence, and then hugs the shadows behind statues, peering around the corner.
What he sees makes his blood hot, and his eyes become shrouded in white hot rage.
Ronald sodding Weasley, his clusterfuck of a wand held up to Potter's throat.
"...don't understand why the fuck you would do this to her, Harry. After how Dean treated her- you know she deserves better than this." His voice cracks as he says, "She's a decent sort, Harry, and she's my bloody sister." Draco hears Potter apologize, say he didn't expect it to go this far.
"I was going to tell her, Ron, really, I was. Hell, I even tried to tell you-"
Ron snorts, "That's a load of shit, Harry Potter, and you know it. You wanted to keep Malfoy a secret, you got off on it-"
"No, Ron, listen-"
" No , you listen, you mental fucking wanker. That's my fucking sister, and she loves you, and the more I think about it the more I think I'll have to do something about it-"
Draco sees the tip of Weasley's wand glow red, and he reels, feeling the hairs on his neck stand on end, electricity in the air, and Weasley is blown back by unintentional magic, something primal inside of Draco that hadn't been released since he was a child. Potter throws his hands up, trying to shrink into the stone wall.
"Ron, I swear, it wasn't me this time."
Draco slinks out of the shadows, dropping the charm.
"No," he sneers, "it was me."
He hunches over Weasley, bracing his hands on his knees, "And if you ever touch a bloody hair on that gorgeous man's head again, well…" He smirks, straightening, "I'm stronger than I look, Weasel."
Draco's a damn good Legilimens when he needs to be, and he sends an image to both Potter and Weasley of Draco and Potter in the forest, Potter on his hands and knees, moaning and crying out as Draco rams into him from behind, his hands pulling Potter's head back from the roots of his hair.
When he pulls out of their minds, Draco notes Potter's hard breathing and flushed face, his averted eyes. Weasle stumbles back, his face contorted into a picture of disgust. He scrambles away from the both of them, shooting a glare back over his shoulder.
Anger seeps out of Potter, taking Draco by surprise.
"You shouldn't have shown him that, Malfoy." Draco rolls his eyes, unintimidated by the Gryffindor oaf.
"Why? It's not like he doesn't know already."
Potter comes closer. It's not just anger, Draco realizes, biting back a smile, it's pure, unadulterated lust . "Because," Potter snaps, "There are some things that I get to be selfish about, you fucking wanker."
Draco pushes him up against the wall, pins his wrists above his head with one hand, and shuts the fucking arse up by flicking his tongue out along Potter's lip, by gripping his jaw and claiming Potter as his. His tongue runs over Potter's, and the boy moans, a long, sweet sound that goes straight to Draco's groin. He rubs up against him, gasping, needing more than a clothed grind. He fumbles with his belt, confused when Potter stops him.
And oh, fuck, Merlin , the way Potter looks right now is delectable. His lips are swollen and pink, his hair mussed up, the line of his cock swollen in his slacks. Draco licks his lips,
"You look positively edible , Potter. I could devour you."
Potter bites his lip, holding Draco back and looking around. "Not here, anyone could see-"
"So? I'd think you like that, being the filthy fucking whore that you are." Draco squeezes Potter's arse and presses his thumb over the head of Potter's prick through his trousers. Potter gasps, and something dark and delicious clouds his bright eyes. He picks Draco up roughly, throwing him over his shoulder and walking into the same abandoned classroom they'd been in when Blaise had caught them. Harry shuts and locks the door, casts a muffliato, and, in one fluid motion, slides Draco down off his back and flips him around, bending him over one of the desks.
Draco pushes his buttocks back against Potter, smirking when he hears a moan, lovely and deep.
"Fuck, Malfoy, you've got the best arse. I love being inside of you." Malfoy looks back and rolls his eyes, "More bite and less bark, yeah? If you love it so bloody much, I don't see what you're waiti-" Draco gasps at the sensation of Potter's teeth sinking into his neck, the bite sharp. Potter blows a stream of cool air on it afterwards, making Draco shudder against him. He hears the drop of trousers behind him, feels the slick head of Potter's cock.
"Lube," Potter gasps out, and Draco glares at him, "Potter, if you stop right now, you filthy whore, you goddamned slag, if you don't fuck me harder than you ever have and prove to me that you are, indeed, an actual man , I'll-" His voice fades into a stutter of small, helpless sounds as Potter rams into him all at once, spreading the cheeks of Draco's arse and pounding into him so hard that the desk is moving with him.
Draco grips his own cock in his palm and squeezes up and down, struggling to find a rhythm with Potter fucking him like the world might end, and it bloody well might after a shag like this. Potter hits something inside of him, a bundle of nerves deep inside that makes him drop his prick and cry out.
"Oh, fuck, please, Potter, do that again-"
And Potter stops moving entirely.
Draco is beyond irritated.
"What the fuck, mate? Why'd you stop?"
Potter leans over him, massaging his bollocks, rolling and pinching at his nipples, and Draco's chest heaves. "Please, keep going-"
"Say you're my whore, Malfoy."
Draco pales. "What?"
Potter draws nearly all the way out of him, both a threat to leave and a terribly wonderful promise to hit that spot again, fuck him raw.
"Say you're my bloody Slytherin whore, you fucking slag, that you're mine and only mine, you goddamned slut. "
Draco pants, his cheeks flushed, and the first time, he mumbles it. "...your whore."
Potter shifts a little inside him, making Draco arch with pleasure. "What was that?"
Draco moans, "I'm your fucking whore, only yours, I mean it, please Merlin fuck me-"
And Potter is moving again, just as viciously as the last time, hard and fast, and all Draco can think about is how Potter feels inside of him, and then everything feels suddenly more : Potter's quick thrusts, his lips on Draco's neck, the splintered wood of the desk gripped beneath Draco's palms, and he lets out a long, almost relieved moan when he comes. Potter slows, his thrusts more self-serving now, but Draco relishes being used by him.
A moment or two later, Potter cries out, slumping against Draco's back, their skin sticky with sweat and come, and even after their bodies are no longer joined together, Draco is sure he can still feel him.