Chapter Two:
Wet Dream
It had been ten years since the day Harry had discovered self-inflicted wounds, and he was now thoroughly addicted. The only thing he craved for more than then the brutally calming pain was one Draco Malfoy: the most beautiful being in existence. But, unlike his self injury,
Harry could not have Draco Malfoy, no matter how much he craved for him. Draco would always be his fantasy, and nothing more, for Draco hated Harry with a passion. Draco's malevolence towards Harry was topped only by Harry's desire to see himself in agony. Although, sexual frustration wasn't the kind of agony he had had in mind.
It was hard enough for Harry to concentrate in his classes without Draco smirking on the other side of the room. Draco's smirk always reminded Harry of a wet dream, which always got him hot and bothered. On one similar occasion, Harry had reached into his pants to stroke himself. Luckily, that particular incident had been in History of Magic, and not Potions.
At the present time, Harry didn't mind his Draco obsession. Harry's overactive imagination gave him the most erotic of dreams.
Draco was on top of Harry, licking and biting his way down Harry's chest. Harry moaned rather loudly, arching up into Draco's touch. Draco could be so immensely cruel, but he always made Harry feel good. Too good. He felt as if he was about to explode. Why did Draco have to bite? Couldn't he just nibble? It would certainly make their encounters longer.
Draco finally made his way to Harry's lower stomach, his neck and chin grazing Harry's cock. Harry moaned, barely resisting the urge to thrust upward. Draco looked up at Harry and smirked, causing Harry to moan, once again. At last, Draco licked the tip of Harry's shaft, causing Harry to gasp. Slowly, carefully, Draco took the head of Harry's shaft into his mouth, caressing it gently with his tongue. Harry threw back his head, panting, and moaning softly.
Draco was a cruel and malicious bastard. This was absolute torture! Draco always did this to him. Always, and Harry loved it. It was what he lived for. It was what he dreamed of. It was what he wished would happen in real life. Harry wished Draco would love him this way, but he new it to be impossible. The only thing Malfoy would ever love about Harry was that he was such an easy target for bullying. I don't think one would really call that love.
Draco took Harry's cock fully inside his mouth and sucked, hard. It didn't even take a minute before Harry came, panting Draco's name.
Harry jerked awake, fully aware of his sticky bed sheets and pajamas. He sighed, still panting hard from his dream, and reached for his wand and glasses on the bedside table. Once he had cleaned the sheets and himself up, Harry peeked through the curtains at the clock. He had about an hour left before breakfast. Harry decided to read ahead for his first class of the day, Potions. He didn't want his grade to suffer anymore than usual, and certainly wasn't going to let his Draco obsession cause him to lose yet another thirty house points.
During breakfast that morning, Draco looked over to the Gryffindor table, his gaze eventually landing on Harry, who was staring back. Draco smirked and shook his head. Harry looked down at his plate, feeling his cheeks flush.
Ron looked over at Harry and asked in a worried tone, "What's wrong, mate?" Harry sighed and said in a dejected voice, "Nothing, Ron. Just tired is all." Ron rubbed his back and said sympathetically, "I'm sorry, mate. You can sleep in History of Magic, and I'll ask Hermione if you can copy her notes." Harry smiled meekly at Ron, and mumbled his thanks to both him and Hermione, before he turned his attention back to the Slytherin table.