Draco
"Can I tempt you?" I looked over at Michael's outstretched hand that was clutching a brown paper bag,
"What is it?" I asked somewhat suspiciously, Michael looked inside the bag and shrugged,
"Cashew nuts." He said neutrally and I gaped at him in slight surprise, "What?"
"Nothing, it's just that cashews, they're awfully posh." I replied pleasantly, helping myself to some nuts,
"Are you making fun of my financial state, you snobbish git?" Michael withdrew his hand with a wounded air,
"No, of course not." I reassured him, "I'm making fun of your plebeian state." I added cheerfully, Michael's mouth dropped open,
"Oh! You cheeky bastard!" he cried out,
"Tart!"
"Am not!" He called hauntingly, and damn- he was right.
"Fine, fag!" I corrected and Michael plunged himself gleefully into the game,
"Flamer!"
"Shirt lifter!"
"Queer!" Now it was my turn to protest,
"Am not!" Michael looked at me with a bemused expression,
"Oh? So you finally managed to turn Oliver into a girl?" I tossed the last nut I was holding at him and he ducked it, laughing,
"Good heavens, no! I just don't like that term."
"How come?"
"Because queer means strange and insinuate there's something wrong with me, and there isn't!" I added forcefully and Michael gave me a proud look, followed by a smile that was threatening to turn into a mocking grin,
"That interesting, I've never thought about it this way."
We sat in silence for a couple of minutes eating cashew nuts and waiting for the players to step out into the grass and for the game to finally begin. It was the beginning of my last Quidditch season but I wasn't to play today, since the Ravenclaw team was about to face Gryffindor. It was a beautiful Saturday morning, the sky was bluer than robin's egg and there wasn't a cloud around, the sun was bright but gave out very little warmth. Michael and I sat on the back row of the Ravenclaw stands, luckily for us all the Ravenclaw students who came to watch their team squeezed as close as possible to the front of the stand so Michael and I were left in relative solitude that allowed us to converse freely.
"Hey, look here they come!" Michael called as the cheers grew louder around us and we turned our attention to the fifteen figures that stepped onto the pitch. My attention focused immediately on the figure in the black and white robes in the middle. Oh sweet Merlin, I'm so glad I got to see Oliver in his Quidditch uniforms before I actually have to play- it would be so embarrassing, not to mention painful to try and mount a broom with a huge boner… those white Quidditch trousers that were so tight it went straight to my groin.
"Draco, close your mouth, you're drooling." I turned and shot the stupidly grinning Michael a venomous look,
"Bugger off, Corner." He chuckled softly and turned his attention back to the pitch where the traditional captains' handshake took place. From the corner of my eye I could see Michael biting his lip and had to hide a smile, I personally couldn't really see what all the fuss around Potter was.
"Oh, Merlin, will you look at this arse? Isn't Wood divine?" My attention snapped to the group of sodding Ravenclaws girls that stood in the stand's corner and shamelessly ogled my boyfriend.
"Hmm, yes, I could just go down to the pitch and ravish him, right there." I nearly gagged at that, Michael too, but that was because he was laughing so hard,
"Michael, did you hear that?" Michael was wiping tears of mirth and only managed to nod weakly,
"Oh, gods, it was worth coming to the game just to see that look on your face."
"That's not funny! They're talking about molesting my boyfriend," I hissed and that sent him into a new laughing spray,
"I know, isn't the irony just delicious?" I shot him a narrow eyed glare; there was nothing funny about a bunch of hussies trying to have their wicked, filthy way with MY Oliver! "Oh, please, Draco- you're getting all worked up about a bunch of silly bints? Everyone who reads the paper know that Oliver is gay! He wouldn't look twice at any of them." In some twisted and bothersome way it made sense, bothersome mainly because I didn't come up with it on my own. "YES!" Michael was yelling at the top of his lungs along with the rest of the Ravenclaws when one of their chasers scored.
"I never would have taken you for a Quidditch fan." I said once the girls finally starting paying attention to the game and not Oliver and I could somewhat relax,
"Why? I love Quidditch; I'm actually a big Magpies fan." I tried to picture Michael standing and cheering in a crowd of screaming fans, all clad in black and white scarves and hats. It was rather amusing.
The game itself was rather a blur to me, as I was far too busy perving on my boyfriend's perfect arse in those obscenely tight Quidditch trousers to take much notice of what really happened, which I probably should have, being a team captain and all- I should at least be on top of other teams tactics, but Merlin be buggered, no-one ever told me that wearing Quidditch robes could be this hot. Next to me Michael seemed far more attuned to the game, shouting and cursing and plunging himself joyfully into the heated atmosphere around.
"Bloody hell! That was a foul! Come on ref, are you fucking blind?" I coughed politely by Michael's side but he only huffed, "Did you see that?" he gestured wildly at the pitch. All the Ravenclaw supporters were shouting insults, but I could only shrug,
"Not really, no."
"Gods be damned Draco, would you bloody take your eyes off Wood's arse for three seconds and fucking acknowledge what's going on the pitch?" I gaped speechlessly at Michael, the gentle, quiet and all around decent bloke, Michael that was cursing his head off with his face red and eyes blazing. Wow, I never actually contemplated what the heat of a Quidditch could do to a guy.
"Oh, man… That's just not fair!" he cried and I tried to look at what he was talking about, gods it was almost physically impossible for me to take my eyes off Oliver, "What's your position of pre-match sex?" Michael's question was a little surprising, to say the least,
"Hmm, dunno, it depends. Am I playing?" he shook his head without looking at me, "Well in that case, bring it on!"
"Well, that probably explain why the ref can't see two feet in front of his nose!" He was shouting the last few words furiously at the pitch in general, and then turned to me and asked in an acidic tone, "What on earth did you do to him last night?" I pulled a face at Michael, who at least had the decency to look at me,
"Ha ha! Very funny Corner! Unfortunately for your dumb-arse theory, Oliver doesn't believe in pre-match sex." I sighed wistfully and Michael just looked highly amused.
We continued to watch the game in relative silence when Michael suddenly moaned,
"Oh, bloody hell, that's so fucking erotic." It took me a couple of seconds to bring my mind around to see what he was talking about,
"Michael, Potter was just running his hand in his hair."
"I know…" he groaned and I couldn't help chuckling,
"Do you want me to drop a good word for you with Potter?" I offered graciously, Michael tore his eyes from the messy haired form of Potter to give me an incredulous look,
"You don't even speak to Potter; all you do is insulting each other."
"True, but Oliver seem to be in good terms with him, I could ask him to talk some sense into that thick Potter head." I said cheerfully but Michael didn't seem to find it all too amusing,
"No, thank you! I don't need the pair of you messing around with my love life." I rolled my eyes,
"Fine, but I'll just have you know that thanks to you I have yet another reason to hate Potter." Michael sighed,
"Cheers, I guess." He said, a tiny bit bemused,
"I mean it; Potter is total git if he can pass out a great bloke like you." I added confidently and now Michael was completely bemused,
"You passed out on a great bloke like me; does that make you a total git as well?"
"I didn't pass out on you. We make much better friends than we would ever make lovers."
"How can you be so sure?"
"You're not really my type anyway, you're too scrawny." Michael gasped in indignity at that,
"I'm not scrawny!" I shrugged and pointed at Oliver and Michael huffed to himself,
"Besides, it looks like we're both into Quidditch playing Gryffindors…" I pointed out and now it was Michael's turn to shrug. I did want to do something nice for him, after all he's the one who gave me the final push to go for Oliver and I figured I could return a favour, even if Michael's fantasy was Harry "Golden boy" Potter.
"Draco, promise me you're not going to do anything about my crush on Harry!" I blinked a couple of times, caught completely off guard by Michael. My first reaction was to say no, but his eyes were boring in me in a way that made it practically impossible to refuse,
"Oh, fuck it! Fine, I won't say anything to Saint Potter," I practically spat out the last two words, "But I still think you could do a lot better than him." Apparently that was the wrong thing to say altogether because Michael lashed out so furiously at me I found myself actually backing away from him,
"Fuck you Draco Malfoy! Not all of us have your luck, and not all of us get to live out our fucking fantasy! It's more complicated than that!" Well, I'm not a Malfoy for nothing, and backing out of an argument was never my style anyway,
"Is it because of that Weaslette bint?"
"Yes!"
"Oh, please Michael, if Potter's gay it wouldn't really matter if the Weaslette wants him or not." Michael held my gaze for a few seconds and then sighed and lowered his head,
"You don't understand. Ginny and I have been together for almost a six months, we slept together. I can't just hurt her like that."
"She only went out with you to get Potter jealous," I said rather nastily, "Bullocks Michael, you are such a bloody Hufflepuff- you let everyone walk all over you!" Michael pursed his lips and took a deep breath, obviously not intending to continue the angry exchange.
"You just don't get it, Draco. So leave it."
"But…" I tried one last time, but Michael cut me,
"Just. Leave It."
"Fine!" I huffed and slumped back into my seat. Fine! If he doesn't want my help, I won't give it to him, but there is nothing that could actually stop me from hexing Potter to next Tuesday the next time I see his ugly face around!
"Oh, come on- that was a clear foul!" Apparently Michael was back to watching the game, "Did you bloody see that?"
"Yes, and you got a penalty shot." I said quietly, before Michael could start bad-mouthing the referee again.
"I say he's still bias in Gryffindor's favour!" he declared and I looked at him in shock,
"You're leading in points!" Michael shot me a narrow- eyed look,
"I'm not watching anymore games with you," he firmly stated. "You can't see beyond your cock." I gaped at him, the little bastard! How dare he?
"Fine, you're an insufferable git who can't accept that his team suck!" we looked at each other menacingly for a few seconds,
"I really hate you Draco Malfoy, and I refuse to talk to you!"
"Good reddens Corner!" there was a tight silence that lasted for a few minutes while we both sat crossed armed and looking straight ahead when Michael tilted his head, not looking at me and said in a quiet voice,
"Are we still on for study session on Monday?"
"Absolutely." We both nodded and tried to hide our smiles. Michael passed the cashews my way and we continued to munch on them and watch the game. Personally I had enough of that game, and I couldn't wait for it to be over- I just wanted to get my hands on that white clad magnificent arse. Oh, the things I wanted to do to Oliver right now… I'd start with discarding him of every other item of clothing but those trousers, then I'd get down on my knees and open them slowly, very slowly, exposing his amaz…
"NOOOO!" The agonized cry cut through my fantasy rather effectively, I looked at Michael distraught face first and then at the pitch to see what was the whole commotion about. Form the fact that the entire red stand was cheering like mad and Potter was practically shining with victory I took it the game was over and that Ravenclaw lost. The Ravenclaw stand I was sitting in was united in shouting loud boos; luckily I couldn't really make any of the words because I had a feeling that some of them were directed against Oliver. "Argh! That… that ref!" Michael turned a venomous look at me, "Your boyfriend is such a… Gryffindor!" I nodded gravely, yes I'm well aware of that fact.
Michael and I waited as the students started filing out of the stand, the girls that were so keen about Oliver a mere hour ago were now grumbling,
"230-190! This is so unfair! I cannot believe that Wood! And to think I was about to go and ask him to sign my breasts." I could hear Michael starting to chuckle softly next to me, though whether at them or at my wide-eyed astound expression I couldn't tell,
"Oh, please, like Wood would ever sign your breasts- you're flat as a board." Her friend declared and then did a double take, "Wait a sec, isn't Wood suppose to be gay? Maybe you still stand a chance." She said cheerfully as they both disappeared in the stairs and Michael was positively howling with laughter now,
"Oh, gods, that almost makes losing worth it." I shook my head at him, and said in the saddest voice I could muster while he was laughing so hard,
"I take it back Corner. You're not a Hufflepuff, you're just evil." He wiped tears of mirth from his eyes and took a deep breath.
"Stop it Draco. I still have to show up at the tower looking sad and dejected."
"Well, I have a hot date with a pair of tight white Quidditch trousers, so if you don't mind." I said as we got up,
"You little pervy Quidditch refs fancier." He teased and I just sent him a wide smile. Oh, yes, I was.
At the castle entrance we parted ways as each made his way to his dorms. The Slytherin temporary dorms were still next door to Oliver so I didn't even have to pretend. I did duck into his office before actually arriving to my own door. When I entered his private room I was quite disappointed to hear the shower running, which meant I won't get to dislodge Oliver of his pans and blow him. But on the other hand, the shower meant that soon Oliver would come out of the bathroom, naked and wet… Oh, the possibilities…
I quickly striped down and folded my clothes neatly and then placed them on the armchair. Unlike the messy heap of Quidditch robes that lay on the floor, on second thought, now that I've seen it- or rather smelled it; I had no desire to touch it and launched myself joyfully on the bed instead. I contemplated for a while which position would be sexiest and eventually settled for a half sitting position against the headboard with one knee bent and my arm sloshed casually on it. It was comfortable, and it would give Oliver a clear view when he finally decides to quit the bloody shower.
After what felt like years he finally came out, and all my carefully plans of the sexiness were squashed at the sight of the towel wrapped around his head, which he used to dry his hair with. There was another towel wrapped around his waist that was completely unwelcome but what was most interesting was the fact that Oliver was softly singing something under the towel,
"Your piece of pork, your wife's best friend,
Your Percy or your cock,
You can wrap it up in ribbons,
You can slip it in your sock,…"
I couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped my lips and Oliver suddenly appeared under the towel, looking slightly mortified,
"Bullocks, Draco, you nearly gave me heart attack…" he was panting and pale, looking like he was really on the verge of a heart failure and I scrambled to the edge of the bed and wrapped my arms around his waist. I could feel his heart pounding a mile a minute against my chest and brought my lips to his in a soft and apologetic kiss. "Why didn't you join me?" he whispered in my ear as he was nuzzling my neck affectionately. I shrugged,
"I wanted to surprise you." He chuckled against my neck and I felt the delicious vibration against my skin,
"You sure did."
"You were singing to your cock," I said with a smile as my hands went lower and lower and started tugging at the towel at his waist, Oliver's chuckle turn to a full laugh,
"No I wasn't. I didn't come up with this song." He said a little defensively then shut any further inquiries rather effectively with his tongue in my mouth and I figured I could let it slide, especially when I finally had Oliver naked and maybe not as wet as I originally liked, but I could always work on that one. I edged on my knees backwards pulling Oliver onto the bed; soon we were both kneeling in front of each other, kissing tenderly. Oliver's hands turned from my face to cup my arse and he pulled us close together, close enough for me to feel his erection against mine. With a soft moan I fell backwards pulling him with me so that his strong, magnificent body was lying on top of me.
..oo00oo..
Oliver
It was quite an exhausting game, mentally more than anything. But I think all in all I did rather well. I know that at least three quarters of the school would blame me for Gryffindor winning, saying it was fixed and all. All I can say back to those people is- There's a reason why Harry is the youngest seeker in a century! I had absolutely nothing to do with it.
While I was in the shower I couldn't stop smiling at the thought that at one point or another, Draco will show up for the "after game entertainment" which I can safely say, I've been waiting for since I woke up this morning.
And the thing is, I was singing to my cock, but I figured that if I start explaining Draco who Monty Python are it will take all day long, not because I think he's thick- far from it. But because I'd probably start to quote and describe scenes and we'll never get anywhere!
Unfortunately, Draco decided to skip joining me in the shower and instead test how strong my heart is. After I finally recovered from the boyfriend induced heart attack (which is much better than any other fright induced situations as you get to be kissed and cuddled right after to help you forget everything), I found myself on the bed with arms full of blonde sexual divinity. I was slowly nuzzling Draco's chest, trying not to succumb to the bone heavy lethargy that started spreading through me even though my cock was weeping for attention.
"Oliver, are you alright?" I lifted my eyes to look at Draco who peered at me in concern. I rolled off him and stretched out languidly,
"Well, I've had quite a day, toiling at the match." I drawled as he crawled and snuggled at my side,
"Watching you there was quite hard work too, you know. Those Quidditch trousers should be illegal!"
"You liked those, didn't you?" I couldn't help but smile, I knew he'd like them; it was my intention after all,
"Unfortunately, I wasn't the only one." He chided me and I laughed,
"But I did put them on for you." I purred and he let out a laughter snort, I gave a slightly offended look, "I'll have you know that those trousers are a murder to wear."
"Quite stiff to watch too, I was hoping I'd catch you still in them so I could… help you get them off." Draco traced his fingers slowly down my chest and stomach and I felt the shivers running under my skin straight to my cock, unfortunately, as usual after Quidditch games, my body parts seem to lose the ability to inter-communicate and I simply couldn't stifle the yawn that took over, "Wow, that's crude. Not to mention, slightly insulting." His hand stopped its course and he peered down at me,
"Sorry lovely, I didn't mean to insult you. I'm just a little done for." I said reassuringly but his face fell,
"So, no sex then?" I grinned wide at him, oh, my little dragon, you obviously don't know me that well, yet…
"I never said that," I placed my arm under my head and let the fingers of the other hand slide sensually down my torso, "You're just going to have to do some of the work yourself." He quirked an eyebrow and I gestured with my chin, "Go get the lube, gorgeous." While Draco scrambled to comply I stroked myself a little get myself harder. When he returned he looked at me, tube in hand and subconsciously licked his lips, I smiled, and resumed my stroking, if that what he wants- he better come and get it.
The look in Draco's eyes was almost dreamy, like he was hearing the call of my cock and couldn't ignore it, his pink lips parted and he crawled down to my lap. His lips closed around me and my head was tossed back, gods, I love it when he does that. I was almost lost in the feel of his tongue on me, what can I say, the boy is a very fast learner, but that was not my original plan and hard as it was to focus I managed to chock out,
"Draco, lo…lovely, stop." His mouth stopped working, and for a wild second I wanted to just take the words back but then he lifted his head and his eyes met mine and I smiled at him. With my finger under his chin I urged him back up to meet me in a kiss.
"I want to try out something new," I breathed slowly against his lips, not sure how well this will go down, so far every time something new came up there was this anticipation mixed in with fear, but then again- I never really asked for permission to try out new things before. Draco drew back and I bit my lip, waiting for him to say something, to agree or turn me down. He looked down at me thoughtfully, as if weighing his options and my eyes locked into his trying to project a message that he could trust me. After a while he tilted his head slightly to the left and his eyebrows rose, as if to say- "Yes, go on. I'm listening." Suddenly it was me who was nervous, I mean, it is after all the first time I actually had to ask someone's permission to do anything, more importantly- it was the first time I actually cared.
"I want you to ride me." I said quietly and smiled at his confusion, "Don't worry, I'll talk you through it." He gulped and nodded, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath- I was chewing on my lip, waiting for him to mentally prepare himself, even though I could hardly see straight with want.
"Talk to me, lion." I pulled him again into a deep kiss, while my hand was locating the tube the lay beside us. I pulled from his mouth and while he continued nibbling my ear and neck I tried my best to stay in some level of control and squeeze some of the gel into my hand.
Our erections grinded together and for a few seconds it was all I could do, I was so lost in the sensation, and so was Draco. Goodness, after-match lethargy makes me lose every last bit of control I have, well almost all of it. My fingers seemed to know their way around just fine as they stroked Draco and prepared him, while my mouth was busy with his, the rest of me was seemed to have lost the memo that sex is the order of the day, but as long as my prick stood tall and firm, I didn't really care.
"Lower yourself on me," I said against Draco's lips and he drew back in slight surprise, I nodded to him, to reassure him and he did as I bid- slowly, so slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. And I had to fight back the urge to shut my eyes, when he enveloped me with that tight heat.
"Now what?" the little tit had the audacity to actually sit on me, and ask that!
"It's really up to you, I'm just going to say, if you don't move- you can forget about playing with my dick in the near future."
"Is that so?" He leaned forward to whisper airily in my ear and the movement was making me dizzy with delight again.
"Uh, yeah," I managed to drawl and his teeth sank in my earlobe- not too gently, "Ride me lover," I pulled his face close and whispered against his lips, "Ride me hard. Make me come inside that gorgeous arse of yours." At that Draco pushed himself off my face and leaned back. He rode me, oh hell, he rode me hard- his body was glistening with sweat, so pale and so perfect, his muscles and contours looked as if they were carved of the finest marble. I ran my hands on them, brushing his nipples with the pads of my thumbs, dipping my fingers into his naval and down, down to my prize. My fingers closed around his hot pulsating hardness and I started squeezing and rubbing as if my very life depended on bringing us both as high as possible, and in a way they were because I had so little control over the whole situation. I was fisting harder and faster and was rewarded with Draco's little mewling sounds- all I could do was breath out his name- loud and gasping, when I felt we were both nearing our climax, Draco echoed my cry with his own moaning version of my name and we both came together hard, and so terrific.
Draco collapsed on top of me and for a long moment all I could hear was both our hearts beating in sync pounding in my ears.
I wrapped my arms tight around Draco's slender frame and closed my eyes, lethargy finally catching up with each and every part of my body.
A/N:
Watching sports is really fun. You should ask any of my friends that watching football with me is a very educational experience.
I really don't go for all the baby, honey, love sort of nicknames, but I first encountered "Lovely" in K. Sandra Fhur's comics "Boy meets Boy" and loved it, so there it is.
The penis song… Can only be written by someone who was in Monty Python… if you're interested, here's the rest of it:
Penis Song (Not the Noel Coward Song)
Isn't it awfully nice to have a penis,
Isn't it frightfully good to have a dong?
It's swell to have a stiffy,
It's divine to own a dick,
From the tiniest little tadger
To the world's biggest prick.
So three cheers for your Willy or John Thomas,
Hooray for your one eyed trouser snake,
Your piece of pork, your wife's best friend,
Your Percy or your cock,
You can wrap it up in ribbons,
You can slip it in your sock,
But don't take it out in public
Or they will stick you in the dock,
And you won't come back.