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Harry had showered and used multiple cleaning spells in the hopes of getting the smell of coyote off and out of him. Neville might have been fucked up, but Harry still didn’t want the boy dead. Maybe severely bruised after how he had bitten him and didn’t really seem to be sorry about it at all, but not dead.
Draco still hadn’t shown up, absent from the Great Hall during lunch and now dinner. Harry was getting a little worried. Not that he thought Draco was injured or anything, so much as, maybe the Slytherin was having second thoughts. Draco had really enjoyed himself when Sirius had filled him, but even so, he might be upset with Harry over it. Harry was having difficulty feeling regretful, except when he considered the possibility that Draco might not want to be his mate anymore.
As much as Harry really enjoyed sex, he still had this part of him that wanted more out of life. Not that his life was terrible since waking up as the mutt. He had been very unhappy before having a pack, feeling alone, angry and disconnected from the rest of the world. But sex, as distracting and enjoyable as it was, had not filled the void Harry had been feeling in his life. No, that was something only Draco had been able to do. There really was no replacing his pretty wolf in that regard and Harry was hoping he hadn’t ruined things between them.
He was having difficulty focusing too much on these unpleasant thoughts. For one, he was unimaginably horny. Beyond what he had been used to during the months of ache he had been learning to bear. It reminded him of when he had first woken up, nearly bending to creatures in the Forbidden Forest until Padfoot had come along and taken care of him.
The other reason Harry couldn’t concentrate was because Neville was staring at him.
The dodgy coyote had taken a seat across from Harry at the table directly to the left and was just blatantly staring. Not pretending to eat, not talking to anyone, hell—even a book on the table would have been something. No, Neville was staring, burning deep blue eyes, lower lip caught between his teeth while Harry tried to ignore him and eat. Ron, Seamus and Lavender could not ignore it and kept whispering while looking from Harry to Neville. It was not a good sign when Harry’s oblivious housemates started to notice him, especially when in the light of Neville’s hungry gaze. Harry did not need a bunch of his peers to figure out that he was always aching. They wouldn’t understand and would surely torment him the rest of his years at Hogwarts for it.
Decided, Harry got up to escape. His legs were weak from want of sex and he nearly tripped getting over the bench. He pursed his lips, face flushing when his housemates eyes turned his way. “Gotta pee…” he mumbled, shuffling backwards at their amused gazes.
“Harry, wait! I want to talk to you.” Neville jumped up, scrambling over the bench to follow after. Harry scowled, having nearly reached the double doors. Ron and Lavender had started laughing the instant Neville had spoken to him.
“Leave me alone, Neville.” He backed away, glaring at the boy. Neville reeked of sex, although at least now he had the decency to use a concealing charm for his erection. The blond was biting at his sleeve again, the adorable nervous tic that meant he was more shy than ravenous at the moment. Hopefully Harry could escape before that changed.
“I just… I just wanted to apologize,” Neville said carefully, eyes flicking around to the other students in the Great Hall, only a few looking back. “And, uh, thank you. I forgot to thank you. You really helped me… and I should have thanked you…”
Harry sighed, taking another step back. “It’s fine. I just, you know, have to leave…” He froze, a taller body suddenly knocking behind him as he stepped back again. His mind blared loud warnings, a familiar yet new scent filling his senses. Neville’s wide eyes confirmed Harry’s suspicions, the new animagus having caught the scent as well. Wolf. There was a wolf behind Harry and it was tall and very, very thermal as it breathed hot air on his neck.
“Potter, get the fuck out of the way.”
Harry tried very hard not to moan, breath coming out in fast pants. He needed to run away. Now. This was not his pack, this was not his wolf, and he needed to get the fuck away. First a coyote and now a wolf—Where the hell were they all coming from?
Seeing Harry’s distressed expression and frozen state, Neville cautiously reached the hand he wasn’t chewing the sleeve of his robe of, and grabbed for Harry’s shaking fingers. Blaise Zabini was a good head taller than Neville, with waist length black dreadlocks and skin the color of cool, dusty clay, making his violet eyes seem like amethyst jewels uncovered in the ground. Nothing Neville would ever tell the very athletic, very foul-tempered Slytherin currently glaring at him. “Excuse us, Z-Zabini. Harry was just a little dizzy. He, uh, didn’t like his food…”
“Whatever, just get the hell—Potter, why are you… What is that?” Blaise gave a sniff around Harry’s neck, pale eyes narrowing. He suddenly growled, heat rising over Harry’s skin in an intense wave of lust from the simple sound.
“Everyone just get the fuck away from me,” Harry whispered weakly, snatching his hand from Neville’s and sliding around Blaise’s suddenly motionless form. Harry could feel eyes from the students at the tables and he knew if he didn’t get away as soon as humanly possible, everyone was going to know what he was. And if not exactly that, they would at least figure out he was a really huge slut.
“I asked you a question!” Blaise snapped, grabbing Harry roughly by the back of his neck. Harry was unfortunately reminded of the coyote teeth that had been embedded in that exact spot only hours ago, his body shuddering hotly from the memory. He was blushing, he knew it. Blushing, hard, panting like an idiot and about to start making noises that would be extremely obvious about his need for sex.
“Not here,” Harry begged softly, a whine catching in his throat. “Please.. please… outside the doors…” As long as no one saw, he would still be okay. Just as long as no one knew.
Glancing up and noticing for the first time that they were indeed in the Great Hall with a very large audience, Blaise gripped Harry tighter by the neck and pushed him forward, walking him out the doors. Neville shook himself, running to catch up. The blond pulled Harry’s arms the instant they were out of sight of the Great Hall, trying to pry Harry from Blaise’s grip.
He faltered when Blaise turned his glare full blast to him again but Neville didn’t back down. “Leave him alone, Zabini. He’s not feeling well and you’re only making it worse.”
“He’s feeling fine, you little rabbit. He’s feeling more than fine.” Blaise shifted his stubborn grip to Harry’s shoulder, sniffing up the side of the brunette’s neck and growling lowly again. “What the… What the fuck are you?”
“Pack,” Harry bit out, feeling dizzy and overwhelmed. God, where had all his fucking control gone? Months of training out the fucking window with one fucking growl. Fuck!
“Pack? What does that even mean?” Blaise huffed, pulling Harry back hard against his broad chest and burying his face into the boy’s mess of dark brown locks. “You don’t have a book bag… My god, you smell good… Like dripping honey… and chocolate… maybe a hint of mint…” He moved his head lower, nosing into Harry’s chest and then armpit. “And something else… something hot—Spicy… thick and dark… Musky… very musky… god…”
He pushed Harry up against the wall, moving down the boy’s smaller form, nose nuzzling into the back of his shirt. He pushed the billowing material away with a growl. Then he sniffed down where Harry’s back cinched to his waist, over his lower back, breathing deep, tongue flicking out.
“Stop,” Harry gasped, face falling against the wall as he groaned. They were still too close to the Great Hall. Anyone could walk out and find them, Blaise on his knees while smelling Harry, which was just going to lead to much worse very quick. Blaise ignored him, running his lips down Harry’s hip, breathing slowly, eyes closing as he savored Harry’s sex scent wafting from the band of his jeans.
“Honey… cardamom… saffron… Something… something so fucking tasty…” Blaise mumbled, tongue slipping over Harry’s flesh, catching on the edge of his jeans, teeth nipping to pull the material.
“Please leave him alone, Zabini,” Neville broke in, tentatively tugging on the boy’s heavy shoulder. “Harry can’t help how he smells. You shouldn’t… you shouldn’t do that.”
Blaise shifted, eyes opening and peering up at Neville. “Go away, fluffy bunny. You’re too sweet looking to be around for what I’m going to do to Potter. You’ll make me feel bad.”
“Neville—Don’t you dare go!” Harry snapped, unable to lift his head at the moment, sweat dripping down his face.
“Shut up, Potter,” Blaise grumbled, whirling Harry and slamming him back against the wall by the hips. He pulled Harry’s waistband forward, shoving his face against the boy’s flesh and breathing his heady scent in fully. “My god… Merciful… Delicious… God… I am going to fuck you unconscious.”
“Oh hell,” Harry moaned, trying to push the boy’s head and tongue away from his naval and intended goal of his hard dick. Blaise’s hair was long in spongy dreads but the tall boy didn’t seem to notice any pain when they were pulled. “We’re right next to… the Great Hall…”
Neville, teeth caught on his knuckle as he watched Harry struggle, was having difficulty remembering he was supposed to be helping. Harry was arching back, face flushed, mouth gasping for air, glasses askew. Harry had always been rather special but now when Neville looked at him, he saw something extra. Harry liked to be fucked. A lot. Even by Neville—even by a coyote. Neville, who had been touched by his older cousin more times than he could count throughout his young life, had never really thought anyone would want him to fuck them. Instead they seemed to want to do the fucking to him, usually when he begged very insistently that they didn’t.
Harry was different. He liked when Neville touched him back. Although he said different after. But Neville knew what it was like to say one thing and mean another. Every time Neville said ‘no,’ his cousin had insisted it meant ‘yes,’ so that just had to be the way of things. And the harder Neville fought, the more his cousin hurt, which also made plenty of sense if you liked pain the way someone like Harry did. Harry struggling and hissing at Blaise was totally just asking for it extra bad and in front of everyone.
“Werewolf…”
Blaise stilled, teeth gritting as he glared up at Harry’s dazed face. “What?”
“My alpha… is a werewolf,” Harry hissed, forcing his eyes open to glare back. “Get the fuck off me.”
Blaise hesitated, trying to calculate around the heady scent of sex in the air. Was there a werewolf in the school? Could he honestly say he knew for certain when he hadn’t even known what Harry was? Draco had warned Blaise to stay away from his vicious little boyfriend or there would be pain, but hadn’t said why. Pack… he had said Potter was pack…
“He’s not lying,” Neville said softly. “It’s pretty obvious… once you actually think about it.”
“Lupin…” Blaise muttered as the pieces clicked together. He pushed away from Harry, stumbling to his feet. “Fucking werewolf freak.”
Harry leaned back heavily against the wall, relief and need shaking him. Thank god wolves hated werewolves. Too bad the ignorant coyote didn’t seem to care, but it was at least one less dick to deal with… God, he was fucking hard. Hard and aching. Fucking wolves and coyotes popping out of nowhere, just to torment him. If Harry didn’t have to fear that his pack might smell all these new scents on him, he would have been back in the shack getting filled already.
“Harry, are you…?” Neville swallowed hard, his cheeks flushed red. He was trying to be nice but it was hard with the way Harry looked and smelled. “Do you need help? To get to… um… bed?” He hadn’t really meant it the way it sounded. But then again, if Harry agreed…
Harry stared at the boy’s hand, once again touching his wrist and reeking of sex. The damn coyote—Who would have thought Neville was so messed up? “Let go. I know what you’re doing.”
Neville bit his lip, sliding closer, eyes flickering to Blaise who still hadn’t left. The tall boy was staring, violet eyes glaring at the two of them, tongue touching over his canines. He was very fierce looking but Neville thought he was also handsome. Maybe even worthy of making a deal with… “He’s strong, isn’t he, Harry? You said you like strong guys and Blaise is definitely strong.”
Harry jerked, his ache flaring as he realized what Neville was talking about. “Stop it, you bloody coyote… I’m not some fucking toy.”
Neville smiled, tangling his fingers with Harry’s. “You would make a nice toy. You’re so soft.” He pressed his face to Harry’s neck, noticing how the brunette seemed too weak to even pull away. Harry was breathing heavily, smelling so good… “I’d play with you all the time. Clean you, dress you, feed you… We could bathe together… sleep wrapped tight together…” He petted Harry’s hair, lashes lowered to gaze at the boy’s red pout. “I would do so many bad things to you, Harry. Naughty… painful… terrible things… And you would like them all.”
“Shit,” Blaise hissed, taking a step forward but holding himself back. Harry had started whimpering, leaning away from Neville but not actually fighting. He looked like he might even fall over and that was a very interesting idea. Potter on the ground, panting and sweating. Maybe even with Neville touching him… The sweet boy kissing Harry gently… blushing like he always did… Blaise really liked it when Neville blushed.
“You both… need to… back off…” Harry warned through gritted teeth. But it was all he could do. His knees had locked up, his head dizzy, body feeling sluggish and heavy. He wanted cock. Inside him. Very badly.
“Zabini?” Neville turned to the boy, cheek resting on Harry’s, beautiful blue eyes wide with a question. “How strong are you?”
Blaise took another step forward, towering over the little rabbit of a boy. Harry had groaned at the question, the heated noise sending red pulsing in Blaise’s head. “Strong.”
Neville smirked, pressing his wicked smile into Harry’s cheek. “Strong enough to carry him? Maybe… oh… to a quiet room? Just the three of us?”
Blaise’s breath caught in his throat. He had heard a rumor about Neville Longbottom, one he had been quick to dismiss because of the boy’s sweet face and constant blushes. One that had been far too delicious to ever be possible. Now Blaise wasn’t so certain. No one actually sweet and innocent could smile that crazily while suggesting secreting his own housemate away for a rough fuck in a dark room.
“I know a place.”
“Quieter… just a little… yeah, fuck yeah…”
“That’s not going to work. He can still make noise.”
“Fine… shit, spell thingy… silencing…” Blaise muttered while tearing Harry’s shirt off. He breathed up the boy’s bare chest, Harry’s moan muffled by the gag wrapped around his mouth.
“Should we tie him up?” Blaise asked Neville, eyes lighting over the blond who had just proficiently spelled the walls to keep sound from escaping the empty classroom.
Neville shrugged, slipping his wand away and leaning on a desk. “If you like that sort of thing. It’s not like he’s going to try and run for it.”
Blaise wet his lips, hands moving down Harry’s stomach, gripping the boy’s sides tight. “Why is that? He used to be so powerful.”
“When you want it as bad as he does, you probably can’t do much but bend over.” Neville watched Harry’s face as he said it, the boy’s green eyes dazed and unmasked without his glasses. That was how Harry had been for his coyote. He had practically begged to be fucked by the time he was overwhelmed enough. Neville wondered just how much it took to get the boy to that point.
“You should finish taking his clothes off,” Neville said quietly. “His scent gets so good like that.”
Blaise nodded, hands undoing the button to Harry’s jeans before quickly unzipping his fly. In the back of his mind he wondered what exactly Potter’s alpha would do in revenge. The mild mannered professor really didn’t intimidate Blaise, werewolf or not. It was Lupin’s own fault for not watching his little bitch. Potter was just begging to be fucked when he smelled like this and anyone with a nose could tell.
Neville walked around Harry, tearing a strip off the over sized shirt and using it to bind the boy’s hands together behind his back. Harry glared at him and Neville couldn’t help but smile. “Strong, right Harry? I want you to like this. There are always solutions to problems… just not obvious. Mmm… oh, that’s it…” Neville’s eyes fell shut, Harry’s scent rising up, dripping of lust, need, and heat.
“God, he fucking wants this bad,” Blaise said with a groan, Harry’s erection practically streaming precum. He finished stripping the boy, including pulling off Harry’s shoes and socks. He was slender, long limbs of pale olive skin flushed dark red in places, a few white thin lines of scars littering the sight, drawing Blaise’s eye.
“You should fuck him. Hard. I think he likes it hard.” Neville ghosted his fingers over Harry’s side. “Right, Harry?”
Harry choked on a moan. Hard was good. Hard was very good. But only with his pack. There was no way Remus would forgive this. Harry was supposed to be stronger, able to fight off the advances of two simple students. His body, for some reason, was not listening to him.
Blaise stilled his hands, eyes again pulled back to the blond. “Take off your clothes first.”
Neville blushed, ducking his head into Harry’s neck and pushing up against the shorter boy’s side. “I don’t… um…”
Standing from where he had been kneeling at Harry’s feet, Blaise inhaled sharply, watching Neville peek out at him from the brunette’s shoulder. The two were nearly the same height, Harry with a wilder look to his face than Neville’s shy expressions. Neville a bit paler to Harry’s slight tan, Harry dark featured while Neville a cool ashy blond. They looked very good together and Blaise wanted to see if Neville’s body compared to Harry’s slender, lightly toned form.
“Strip,” Blaise ordered hoarsely, “or you’re going to be the one tied up.”
Blue eyes widening, Neville nodded, catching his red lip between his teeth. As mean as Zabini sounded, Neville had a strong suspicion if the boy did tie him up it would be about the worst of it. He seemed almost nice, for all his snapping and big arms… But then, maybe Neville just wanted him to be nice. Blaise was one of the few Slytherins that didn’t pick on him.
Neville stepped away, placing his wand on a nearby desk. He could feel Blaise staring at him and he chanced a peek his way. Yup, staring… Neville had not realized Zabini had wanted to fuck him, the Slytherin usually so aloof and quiet. But the idea wasn’t too bad. The boy was attractive and hadn’t done anything mean to him yet. Not like that ugly fuck, Crabbe… or Snape…
He pushed his robe off from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor in a black puddle around his feet. Eyes intentionally averted from the boy that was still staring at him, Neville kicked his shoes off, then quickly tore through the buttons of his shirt. Thinking of Snape always pissed Neville off. The man was a dick. A giant, bat-shaped dick…
“Wait,” Blaise said with a growl, Neville jumping, eyes widening to find the boy right in front of him.
“W-What?” He asked, gasping when Blaise went so far as to actually touch him. He closed his eyes, cheeks gaining more color. He realized just what Blaise was running his fingertips over so gently on his side and he was mortified.
“You’re burned… Cigar, right?”
“One fell on me—”
“Fucking liar. It wouldn’t be a perfect circle if it fell. There wouldn’t be five perfect circles, like some messed up branding…” Blaise covered the circle of marks, his dark palm large enough to fit and block the burns from view.
Neville ducked his head, wishing the boy would just leave him alone. He had no interest in discussing his cousin with anyone… Well, besides Harry. Neville had a feeling Harry might understand. Might even want to help him feel better after his cousin’s visits.
“Hold on—Don’t…” Neville swallowed hard, Blaise suddenly moving his hands down to unclasp Neville’s pants. The boy was much taller and absolutely stronger than Neville and he didn’t want to get his ass kicked by arguing with him. Cold air hit his legs, Neville keeping his gaze straight ahead, peering at the dim bulletin board across the room. Blaise’s hands were on his waist, tugging at the band of his underwear.
“Come on, Longbottom. Don’t chicken out on me now. You’re the one that wanted to face down an angry werewolf for this.”
“For Harry… Not so that you’d…” Neville trailed off, Blaise suddenly stepping back, large hands no longer on his waist.
“I just want to see you with him. And then I’m going to fuck him,” Blaise said lowly, hungry gaze moving to Harry’s panting form. “He needs it… Can smell just how much he needs it… But I won’t touch you, Longbottom. Not if you don’t want me to.”
Neville wasn’t completely sure what he wanted when it came to this particular Slytherin, especially when he said bizarrely nice things like that. Ignoring the thought, he shimmied out of his underwear, leaving them to pile with the rest of his clothes. Zabini was staring at him again, likely surprised with how girly he looked. Mason was always saying Neville looked like a girl, waif like and delicate, creamy porcelain skin just perfect for hurting. Neville hated it.
Ignoring the burning stare, Neville focused on Harry instead. Harry’s scent made him so hot, so desperate to help the beautiful slut get off the only way the blond knew how. He’d rather think of Harry than his cousin any day.
Harry’s head was bent forward, ducked down while he whimpered in need, nude body glistening sweat. Neville slipped his finger around the fabric gagging Harry, stretching his red lips wide and likely raw at the corners of his mouth. Harry jerked at the touch, eyes flashing towards his, almost completely free of anger now. “You want it, right? You act like you don’t, but I know you do.” Neville licked around the gag, liking the feel of Harry’s firm, sweet flesh contrasting with the rough material now soaked with saliva.
Harry made a soft sound from the touch, Neville pressing closer, hands carefully touching the boy’s chest and lingering on his nipples. Harry was hard, dick bobbing ever so softly against Neville’s hip. He stepped forward the last distance, sighing from the feel of Harry’s cock nestled up against his own, his heated skin damp and slippery to the touch.
He hadn’t ever been allowed to touch a boy, Neville only always being touched. He had touched dicks, his cousin’s and sometimes Mason’s friends. Neville knew you had to be very careful, no teeth or fingernails on that particular part or they’d beat him. But no one had shown him how to touch any other part of a boy, besides what had been done to him. Hopefully Harry would like it.
Harry cried out, trying to push the gag free from his mouth with his tongue. Neville watched him, fingers twisting the boy’s nipple harder, pulling at the bud and turning it bright red. Neville bent his head and licked his tongue over the sore flesh, teeth nipping sharply, Harry yelping in reply. Neville blinked, Harry suddenly falling to the ground onto his knees, hands still tied behind his back while he swayed for balance.
Harry looked very pretty with the gag in his mouth but Neville thought maybe the boy was on his knees for another reason. Harry liked being touched, liked being fucked and might want to have Neville do things to him that were always done to the blond. The idea was wild to him and Neville roughly pulled at the knot tangled in Harry’s hair, loosening the gag enough to pull it down the boy’s face. Harry gasped, breathing deep once the material was removed, dripping clear fluid, his lips even a brighter red from the harsh fabric.
Neville didn’t give Harry much time to breathe, grabbing the brunette’s ears and holding him steady while he pressed his cock head to Harry’s parted lips. Harry opened to him with a groan, Neville’s eyes closing from the feel of heat and wet. It wasn’t so bad from this side of things… No choking… No wondering if someone was going to strangle you dead if you didn’t do it right…
“You need to let him breathe, bunny,” Blaise muttered, carefully prying one of Neville’s hands off of Harry’s face and pushing the brunette’s head back. Harry gasped for air, Neville opening his eyes in surprise. He had felt so good inside…
“Sorry.” Neville bit his lip, avoiding Blaise’s stare. The Slytherin was probably laughing at him for not knowing what he was doing. Neville fought back another blush, instead focusing on Harry’s face. He was dazed, cheeks flushed, hair even more of a mess. Neville ran his fingertips over Harry’s swollen lips, gasping when Harry began to lick them sensually.
Blaise suddenly grabbed Neville around the waist, the blond squeaking and going still. “Relax,” Blaise said in his ear, pressing up against the smaller boy’s back, holding his bare hips firmly. Neville wished he could step away, afraid of what the Slytherin wanted from him. Blaise was hard beneath his slacks, throbbing against Neville’s ass.
“Potter’s going to do all the work.” Blaise reached around and pulled Harry’s chin up with his fingers, Harry’s lips parting at the touch. “Stop trying to force him, bunny. He likes it. He wants it. Just let him do what he does.”
Beginning to understand what Blaise was doing, Neville blushed hotly. Bunny… he wasn’t a bunny. Not really. He didn’t resist when Blaise pressed his hips forward, helping to guide Neville’s dick to Harry’s mouth again. Neville felt very hot all of a sudden, Harry’s lips stretching wide around his cock and Blaise’s body, hard and strong, towering above and around him while the boy panted in his ear. Almost protective, if not for the searing flesh of his arousal that Zabini had managed to not grind against him, even now while watching Harry swallow Neville down.
“Oh… god…” Neville moaned, his eyelids drooping. Harry was looking at him, green eyes catching his while he licked the underside of his cock. Harry was good at this, sucking just right, tongue contouring and rubbing. Neville went to tangle his fingers in Harry’s hair, wanting the boy to take him deeper, but Blaise caught his hands before he could. The Slytherin threaded their fingers together, unbalancing Neville so that the shorter boy was leaning back against his chest.
“Let him do his thing. Just relax.” Neville closed his eyes, Blaise rumbling in a seductive manner.
“It feels so good,” Neville whispered, Blaise rocking them slowly back and forth, Harry’s hot mouth bobbing in rhythm over his cock.
“Yes, especially when you’re not in a hurry… You can let that feeling build in you… curling hot and tight…” Blaise’s lips brushed ever so softly against Neville’s ear. Neville gasped at the touch, eyes flying open. “Think of it as a slow race… where the winner comes last…”
Neville groaned, Blaise rubbing one achingly long thrust against his ass. Harry was whimpering, looking in absolute desperate need with his mouth full of Neville’s flushed dick and dripping hot fluids messily. “Wow,” Neville whispered weakly, Harry again meeting his gaze. Something about the intensity of that contact sent Neville over the edge, his body arching back, cock spurting his release into Harry’s eager mouth.
Neville shuddered, Harry swallowing his seed except for a thread dribbling down the corner of his mouth. God, Harry had sucked him off. Harry had let him fuck his mouth and then had swallowed like a damn good cocksucker. Neville had known Harry was special, just had never imagined how much.
“You should show him how much you liked that, bunny.” Blaise tightened his grip on Neville’s hands, brushing his lips lightly over the boy’s flushed cheek. “Thank him properly, for a job well done.”
Neville’s eyes drifted down, fixing on Harry’s cock, straining and swaying. He didn’t usually like to suck cock, mostly because his cousin was always choking him with his. But Harry was tied up and probably wouldn’t be able to do that to him. Harry was nice; he probably wouldn’t choke Neville even with his hands untied.
“Hold him up for me?” Neville asked, looking up at the boy that kept smelling his hair. Blaise grinned wickedly in reply. He released Neville’s hands, the smaller boy surprised by how cold he felt without Blaise’s touch. Then Blaise’s heat was gone completely, Neville feeling very naked as the black boy prowled around him, still fully dressed as he stooped to haul Harry up to his feet.
Harry was licking his lips and swaying, tongue tracing over the raw corners of his mouth where the gag had bit in too tight. Blaise wrapped his arms tight around Harry’s chest and waist, Harry groaning and pressing back eagerly against the boy. Neville watched, Harry spreading his legs and bending forward in Blaise’s hold, rubbing his ass and thighs against the taller boy and just begging to be fucked. Harry really did like strong guys… strong guys and dogs…
Staring at the two of them, Neville wondered what both boy’s looked like in their animagus forms. Harry had really liked it when his coyote had fucked him. Neville thought maybe he might like that too. He sank to his knees, hands resting on his own thighs, Harry’s hard dick right before his eyes with precum streaming. Neville lapped his tongue out slowly, tasting the fluid and contouring over the flushed head. He wiggled in Harry’s slit, Harry mumbling loudly while pushing his hips forward.
Usually Neville was being forced down by now, hair being pulled violently, breath stolen away. He wasn’t quite sure what to do when not being forced… Harry’s cock felt good against his tongue and good on his lips. Neville decided he’d just do things that felt good and hopefully Harry would like it as well.
Blaise tightened his hold on Harry, the boy squirming madly while Neville tormented him. The little rabbit was kissing and licking Harry’s dick like a tasty lollipop, letting the hard flesh rub against his face and slicking the blond with his own saliva. From this angle looking down, it was almost like Neville was sucking him off. Blaise growled, pulling Harry’s head back to the side so he could see better, rubbing his bulge against the boy’s tight cheeks.
Neville panted, face flushed. He was feeling hot again, actually enjoying himself. Harry kept making such needy noises and he smelled so good, musky and delicious, just begging for Neville to keep doing what he was doing. Harry liked it a lot, Neville could tell every time he peeked up, the boy’s dazed green eyes staring back, red lips dripping more wet than Neville was with Harry’s hard flesh against his lips. Neville was so sure that Harry was enjoying himself, he was even feeling brave enough to suck the boy down.
Stretching higher, Neville carefully rested his hands on Harry’s thighs, not used to being allowed to touch the person fucking his mouth. He widened, just taking the tip of Harry’s weeping dick into his mouth, feeling the hot flesh move slick against his swollen lips. Harry moaned loudly, Neville closing his eyes at the wonderful, desperate sound. Harry liked it. Liked him. He pulled his lips tighter, suckling gently, tongue flicking out to rub over his slit and steal every drop of precum he could find.
“Fuck… Neville… oh fuck…” Harry gasped, his body jolting with each wiggle of Neville’s tongue. Blaise placed a steadying hand on his waist, his large cock grinding against Harry’s ass in slow, rhythmic thrusts.
“You are one lucky bitch, Potter,” Blaise rasped out, his fingers splaying over Harry’s naval, twitching inches from Neville’s slowly bobbing face. “With your scent you can have pretty much anyone you want…”
Harry would have laughed, except Neville was pulling him in deeper, tongue caressing the underside of his cock in trembling swipes. Just because every fucking canine based cock in the vicinity wanted to put it in him didn’t mean Harry wanted it. Of course, he had yet to regret it at the time, but he was a terrible slut and couldn’t do much about it.
Blaise just couldn’t seem to stop himself, fingers itching, slipping into the damp strands of Neville’s hair. When the boy made no protest, Blaise began to comb his fingers deeper, raking against the boy’s sweating skull, tangling as the hair grew darker and more wet. “You’re doing really well, bunny. Potter likes it a lot…” He ran his hand down, tracing over Neville’s cheek, fingertips brushing ever so lightly against the boy’s red lips as they stretched around Harry’s dick. “Fuck, you’re pretty…” he whispered, watching the boy open wider and drink more of Harry down.
Blaise blearily tried to remember who was fucking Longbottom in that rumor he had heard. It wasn’t anyone at the school, he remembered that much… But it was someone. Someone much older… Someone that when he had heard, it had really pissed him off…
“Neville—Shit, I’m gonna… oh…” Harry moaned loudly, hips jerking forward in Blaise’s grasp. Blaise held tighter, not wanting Neville to choke. His violet eyes glared down when Neville made a coughing noise anyways, the boy releasing Harry’s spurting cock from his lips with a wet gasp, cum coating the blond’s face and dripping from his slack mouth and down his neck.
Growling heatedly, Blaise firmly sat Harry on the nearest desktop, fell to his knees and began licking the cum off of Neville’s flushed face. The boy wailed in surprise, his eyes firmly shut, hands up as if to defend himself. Blaise quickly grabbed his slender wrists, just wanting to taste him. That was all, just a taste of that perfect flesh, berry red lips, and Potter’s musky cum.
Neville tried to bite back his moans, Blaise’s tongue rough and demanding as it lapped firm swipes over his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, along his chin and down his throat. He was pretty sure the powerful boy was going to eat him alive, greedy licks peppered with small nips along the side of his neck. Then suddenly Blaise’s wild tongue was plunging into his mouth, lips pressing hungrily to his, pulling his moans free and swallowing them just as fast. It was raw and consuming, Blaise’s hand fastened to the back of his head, keeping him from escaping. But Neville didn’t want to escape. No one had ever kissed him like that and he liked it.
Blaise pulled back with a groan, tongue lapping out again, tracing over Neville’s swollen rosebud lips while the smaller boy panted. Neville glanced up through his thick eyelashes, Blaise staring down at his mouth. “Zabini… that was good… Really good…” he whispered, not really knowing why he was telling the boy.
Blaise growled lowly, large hand moving down to Neville’s neck and caressing firmly. “You ever want someone to do you good, bunny—Nice and slow and really good… You come to me, okay? I know I probably scare you, looking the way I do. But I would never hurt you. I’m just a bit rough around the edges, promise.”
Neville was starting to believe that. As abrupt and fierce looking as Zabini was, he was also controlled and hadn’t hurt him or Harry once. Neville still didn’t fully trust the boy—He was still more than willing to take advantage of Harry, after all, and might not have any qualms of doing the same to Neville. But he didn’t seem interested in hurting, and that was definitely new for Neville.
“You should, uh, do that… to Harry…” Neville whispered, watching Blaise’s tongue twitch as if it wanted to lick him again. Blaise cupped Neville’s cheek, tongue laving a final time over the boy’s lips.
“Don’t want to do that to Potter…” Blaise tried to read Neville’s expression but besides blushing he really couldn’t tell what the blond thought of him. Probably for the best. A sweet fluffy thing like Neville wouldn’t want to be caught up with someone like him. Blaise got angry easily. He liked to beat people up, liked to scare others just because he could. Neville didn’t like bullies, probably even the one bully that didn’t pick on him.
Blaise got up with a self-deprecating huff, eyes seeking out Harry who had fallen back on the desk, half hanging off. Blaise wanted to be surprised that the brunette was already hard again, but he wasn’t. His inner wolf kept reading information from Harry’s scent, things that Blaise didn’t fully comprehend but seemed to make sense. Potter was some sort of bitch and needed to be fucked. The boy would only suffer if he wasn’t and seeing Harry’s aching expression, he already was.
“Come on, Potter,” Blaise snapped and undid his belt, intentionally ignoring Neville when the boy stood, watching while biting his thumb.
Harry gave a groan, wiggling his hips down the desk until he was sliding down to the ground, knees resting on the floor. Face flushed, he took in Blaise’s tall form, resting and fixating on the large bulge in the black boy’s pants. “Tell me you’re actually going to fuck me with that, Zabini,” Harry said, his voice hoarse and full of need.
“It’s your fucking lucky day,” Blaise said flippantly. “Go spread over the teacher’s desk—Hold on.” He reached forward, grabbing Harry by his tied wrists and tearing the fabric away. There was no way Potter was going to try to get away. That the boy hadn’t been on his knees in the Great Hall was now a mystery to Blaise the more he understood Harry’s nature.
Harry stumbled to his feet, grasping onto the nearest desk, panting loudly. He made his way to the teacher’s desk, bracing himself on his arms and spreading his legs wide. He didn’t bother looking behind him. Zabini would be there soon enough. He would fuck him—properly, unlike that vicious coyote—and maybe even go another round, if the boy was up for it.
Blaise paused mid-step, eyes glancing to the side where Neville was grabbing his shirt. The boy was staring somewhere around his neck and Blaise looked down, Neville’s other hand quickly undoing his buttons.
“You’ll do him hard, right?” Neville asked, biting his lip and wrenching at Blaise’s shirt. It took everything in Blaise not to grab the pretty blond boy and grind into his undoubtedly tight hole.
“Bunny, you need to not be so close to me right now,” Blaise warned, eyes taking in the ever rising flush on the boy’s cheeks.
“I’m not a fucking rabbit, Zabini,” Neville hissed, giving the school shirt another hard tug until it made a ripping sound. Blaise started in surprise, Neville grinning viciously up at him and then pulling again, the shirt tearing off of Blaise’s back in two pieces. “Fuck him hard.”
“What are you, then?” Blaise asked, fingers itching to throw the boy on the floor and spread his creamy thighs wide.
“Just fuck him hard,” Neville repeated, growling lowly.
Breath coming in harsh pants, Blaise grabbed Neville’s shoulders. “Get out of the way or I’m going to be fucking you, bunny. Hard. Very fucking hard.” Neville just stared at him, head tilted back, eyelids heavy, cheeks flushed. And then the smile, wide, grinning deranged madness that had Blaise’s entire body tense with want.
“Show me how hard you are with Harry, then we’ll talk,” Neville said, hands reaching for Blaise’s pants. Blaise could only stare down at the boy while Neville rapidly undid his clasp and tore his fly down. Neville’s impossibly blue eyes widened, his grin falling while he parted his lips in awe. “Maybe not, Zabini… I don’t think I’d survive…” the blond whispered, pale hand disappearing beneath the band of Blaise’s underwear to run tripping fingers over his huge straining length. “Holy fuck… wow…”
The light touches and small noise falling from Neville’s sweet mouth were very much driving Blaise wild. Blaise wet his lips, eyes glancing only a few feet away where Harry was whimpering and humping against the desk. Fucking Potter would get Blaise in a world of hurt with a werewolf. Fucking Neville—Well, there would probably be a different, equally terrible hurt getting too close to the sweet, blushing thing… One that seemed far more dangerous and enticing all at the same time.
“Shit,” Harry swore, head jerking up to stare wide eyed at the door. “You fuckers better run. Like now.”
Bristling, Blaise turned as well, Neville cocking his head to the side to listen. They both flinched at the same time, a low gravelly howl rising up in the distance. Not a wolf howl that rang clear and melodic. No, very much made through the vocal cords of a man—a very furious werewolf trying to figure out where his smallest, weakest pup was at the moment.
Blaise had thought that Remus Lupin was not intimidating. That one primal, terrifying call changed his mind, his once heated senses freezing instantaneously. It was time to go. Now.
Remus barely noticed the scurrying of the many students evacuating the halls around him, his complete focus on his nose and the trickle of Harry’s wanting scent. The trail had started around the Great Hall, only to go lower, down into the dungeons. Remus had no idea what his pup would be doing in the bowels of the castle, especially with Malfoy currently in the shack. It made him angry to wonder, especially when the little slut had refused to answer his calls. Harry knew better—If he wasn’t answering, likely he couldn’t. It was an alarming thought, especially with Voldemort seeking the boy out.
Remus slammed through a dividing door into the Slytherin hallways, snarling at a sallow-faced portrait that was gaping at him. More scurrying, like little rats. Remus hated rats, ever since Peter. The scent was stronger here—Much stronger. Remus breathed deep, lust suddenly adding to his already roaring veins. Harry was close.
The door was locked and warded silent, Harry’s heady musk slipping through the gap near the floor. At least Remus knew why the boy hadn’t answered his calls now. Growling, he slammed his palms into the wood, the door splintering beneath each forceful blow. It only took two more hits and the latch gave way, Remus tearing the door off the hinges and tossing it aside. Harry was lying sideways on a desk, naked, hard, and moaning.
Remus took a quick assessment of the room, his growl returning as he picked up the distinct scent of human, wolf, coyote, and cum below the overwhelming perfume of Harry’s sex. No one was there now, no trace of the culprits except the locked door of a connecting classroom dripping in fear sweat. No sign of Voldemort, no tang of blood.
“Are you alright, pup?” Remus asked brusquely, Harry’s answer the defining factor for what Remus was going to do next.
Harry groaned, leg kicking into the desk he was on fitfully. “Need it, Remi… fucking need it so bad…”
Grumbling, Remus turned back to the door he had destroyed, snapping out his wand and repairing it back into place. He stepped towards Harry, looking for signs of bruises or worse. For the most part the boy seemed fine, just the corners of his mouth raw where undoubtedly the cloth necklace around his throat had previously gagged him. Harry’s scent was filling the room, so strong it was almost a tangible curtain of desperate, red hot need. The poor pup was in agony.
Remus bent one of Harry’s knees up, spreading it to the side to give him easy access to the boy’s puckered entrance. He pushed two fingers in, absolutely confounded to find Harry dry and not full to the brim with wolf, coyote, or anyone’s cum, for that matter. What kind of useless bitches had captured his pup, only to not fuck him senseless? Were they castrated, ball-less, domestic whelps that didn’t know their ass ends from their cocks?
“Oh god, Remi… yeah… Fucking do me… Do me hard…” Harry begged, his head slamming down on the desk, hips pushing forward to ride the fingers stretching him. “Need it so bad… so fucking horny… You fuck so good…”
“Don’t worry, Harry. I’m going to take good care of you,” Remus assured him, leaning down over the boy and licking his flushed face. There was the slightest tang of cum right around Harry’s lips that Remus was quick to lick away. He kept licking, covering Harry with his scent and saliva, stealing the smell away of the other bodies that had touched his pup. While he marked Harry, he continued to pump his fingers roughly, the boy whining and gasping with every thrust.
“Who was it?” Remus asked, his eyes burning anger as he licked down Harry’s stomach, nose brushing against the boy’s hard length and nuzzling.
“Idiots,” Harry panted out, head thrown back. “Fucking packless, kid idiots that don’t know shit… I just couldn’t… fuck… I was just so hard, Remi. The ache is so bad… and nothing is working…”
“I know… I should have looked for you sooner,” Remus muttered, grumbling when he realized an unfamiliar scent was all over Harry’s perfectly flushed cock. He quickly covered the hard organ with his saliva, Harry moaning and squirming, the boy’s hands tangling in Remus’s shaggy locks.
“Don’t tease,” Harry pleaded, locking a leg over the man’s wide shoulder. “Just put it in me already.”
Remus growled, fighting with the very strong desire to cover Harry with his scent, and the stronger desire to fuck the boy senseless. He compromised, shoving a third finger deep inside Harry’s clenching hole, while laving the base of the boy’s cock and washing over his balls with long swipes. Harry gave a strangled cry, his only warning before suddenly jerking and spurting cum all over his stomach, just missing Remus’s cheek. Remus ran his hand over the slick mess, wiping it over Harry’s flesh, painting the moaning boy’s taut torso with the creamy fluid.
Remus was under no illusion that Harry was done. Unless fucked for hours on end, Harry was rarely satisfied. One of the reasons Remus had willingly yielded to Draco Malfoy joining his small pack. Harry needed cock, a lot, and Remus and Sirius just weren’t enough. The white wolf had the time and endurance. And now, apparently, Harry had caught the attention of another young wolf and a coyote roaming around the castle. Assuredly a problem Remus would have to deal with personally. Preferably when he wasn’t so achingly hard from his new packmate joining.
Harry groaned when Remus pulled his fingers free from his hole, then growled in frustration when the man starting eating him out. “Fucking—Do me!”
Nothing was going the way Harry had fucking hoped. No mating with Draco, some bitch coyote tearing his shoulder so bad it had taken all the damn enjoyment out of an otherwise good fuck, and then Zabini—that fucking huge dicked, strong bodied, cock tease—had wasted so much time trying to get in Neville’s hole he had completely failed to give Harry a proper fuck. And now Remus was going to lick him. Like a fucking tongue was going to be enough when he was so—
“Damn it! Remi you will make me raw right fucking now, or, or… I don’t know what I’ll fucking do. But you’ll be fucking sorry!” Harry whined angrily, tears stinging the corners of his eyes.
Remus lapped up Harry’s balls and already renewing cock, the need in his bitch’s voice too great to ignore. He froze once catching sight of Harry’s face, the boy looking so anguished, so despairing, Remus had to fight with the perverse desire to keep him like that. Harry in need was always a juicy sight. Harry with tears in his eyes because he just couldn’t get it thick enough and deep enough… Remus growled, pulling the boy down the desk so that he could see his expression better.
“I’m going to fuck you, pup, I promise,” Remus said lowly, fingers tugging at the cloth around Harry’s neck. It reminded him of a very naughty collar Sirius had once made for Harry. Remus pulled the cloth up over Harry’s chin, the boy rolling his eyes in exasperation even as he opened his mouth to let Remus gag him. Remus tightened the knot, making sure it wouldn’t move no matter how much Harry sobbed.
“How many prissy little bitches see you every day, and manage not to fuck you?” Remus asked, lapping Harry’s nipple and tugging at the bud with his teeth. Harry groaned, every needy noise now muffled. “I bet you could strip your pants off and spread your legs in the middle of class, and no one would have the balls, or the cock, to put it in you. You poor, slutty little pack bitch. What a terribly boring place to live.”
Harry had to agree, especially when Remus seemed more interested in tormenting than filling. Shit, what a fucking terrible day. He should have run off into the Forbidden Forest. Something would have fucked him out there. Probably would have been less vicious than the coyote too—Fucking Neville. Harry gave his best, pleading puppy dog look, adding a whimper for good measure. But his sadistic ass of an alpha only smirked at him, his thick fingers returning to push into Harry’s hole with only slightly satisfying thrusts.
“What if I dragged you out into the hall, mutt? Naked, dripping with your own cum, already stretched. Do you think your little bitch friends would help you? Think they even have the dicks for it?” Remus pressed his mouth to Harry’s cheek, tongue flicking out and trailing wet. “I think I want to see that. I think I want to see you on your hands and knees, begging those little dickless, weak children to fuck you all better.”
Harry whimpered, head falling back on the desk. He honestly didn’t know if Remus would do that to him. The man had his weird moods and darker appetites. He almost didn’t care at this point, just as long as someone fucked him already.
“Too bad you’re being hunted, pup,” Remus said tightly, regret deep in his voice. “Too fucking bad that deranged fuck wants to kill my sweet, slutty little pup. We could have so much fun.” He pushed his fingers deep into Harry’s clenching tightness, the boy moaning, slender legs flexing, and knees raising on the desk as he pushed his hips down. “That’s it, bitch… ride it… Let me see how bad you want it and maybe, just maybe, I’ll give it to you.
Harry had a feeling he had been gagged not to stop him from talking, but to keep him from biting. He was very close to biting Remus, so fucking desperate to be fucked. Instead he grabbed his gorgeous alpha by the back of his head, twisted as best he could, and slammed the man down.
Remus caught himself last second, nose just brushing against the desk. “Bad, Harry… Very, fucking, bad.” Growling low and long, he pulled away from his frustrated pup, eyes raking over the panting boy. “I’m going to forgive you, because I know you’re suffering. I know, because I’m making sure, you slutty thing. Now get on your fucking knees like a well behaved bitch. And believe me, pup, if you are not well behaved, you will not be filled.”
Harry did not trust the look in Remus’s eye. He had not choice though. Either Remus fucked him or Harry stayed horny. Hell, even if Remus did fuck him, Harry would still probably be horny. Groaning, Harry wriggled on the desk, his body so hot it didn’t want to move properly. He managed to turn, his knees sore against the hard wood.
“Down. Head on the desk,” Remus ordered, hand brushing over Harry’s spine as the boy did as he was told. “Now spread… wider… Wider, Harry…” he repeated, when the boy resisted. Finally Harry complied, his thighs shaking from the exertion of being spread so wide. His muscles would start to ache soon, and then burn. Maybe then it would be enough to fill the little brat.
Remus settled behind Harry’s spread cheeks, tongue pushing forward to taste the boy’s pink hole. Remus was not used to Harry being so clean, dry and free of cum. He didn’t like it much, no extra prize to drink down. But the boy smelled delicious, his musk strong, precum once again dripping from Harry’s sweet cock. And he was tight—Harry was always tight, no matter how many times he was fucked. And he was begging so prettily around his gag.
Remus groaned, feeling Harry’s thighs begin to quake as he pushed on the boy’s back. “Get tired, pup… Get weak and complacent…” He lapped between Harry’s cheeks, thrusting his tongue deep, tasting the clenching pucker with each slow movement. Harry began to gasp, muffled, aching cries, his legs slipping further apart from all the sweat on the boy’s flesh. Remus pulled back to watch him struggle, the brunette trying to pull his cramped legs back into position without bringing them so close that Remus would make him start all over.
Grinning, Remus placed his hands on the inside of Harry’s knees, keeping him from getting his legs any higher. Harry gave a pained groan, arms moving on the desk as if he were going to push himself forward just to take his weight off of his legs. Remus waited, but Harry eventually gained control of himself, whimpering as he returned his head to the desk.
“Good, pup. Much better.” Remus snagged both of the boy’s knees, pulling them back and over the desk, gently lowering Harry down until he was lying flush on the tabletop. Harry panted, flexing his feet and trying to get his legs to stop cramping. Not willing to wait, Remus tore his fly down and shoved into the boy’s tight hole with a fluid, rough push. Harry howled, clutching the desk, fingers turning white while Remus fucked him relentlessly.
Harry loved Remus’s cock. Even though it was too big and was always, always too rough. He fucking loved how wide it filled him, how deep it reached, and just how damn well Remus used it. Never hesitating, never shy or self conscious—Always remembering to stretch and lube him. Remus took what he wanted and always gave so much, and Harry never had to fear the powerful man would hurt him.
“You poor, poor little bitch,” Remus growled, tongue running over Harry’s cheek, teeth nipping at the strip of fabric gagging him. “How long have you gone without cock, pup? Did you even get any last night? Watching your little prissy wolf getting fucked, and never getting any for yourself… Oh, Harry, you missed so much today…”
Harry whined, trying to push up onto his arms for leverage. Remus held him down, keeping him pinned flat on the desk, the wood creaking with each forceful thrust.
“You were right, pup. Your boyfriend likes to ride. Siri and I had him spreading for hours. Your noble, pretty wolf begs for cock. Loudly. And you missed it.” Remus chuckled darkly, slamming into Harry again.
Harry groaned, chin thumping on the desk. He had never hated anyone as much as he hated Neville Longbottom and his fucking coyote in that moment. Toes seeking purchase on the floor beneath him, Harry braced his legs, pushing back into each perfectly aimed thrust. Remus held his hips steady, slowing his rhythm so that when he sank in, Harry could clench, and caress, and hold his thick length like the boy loved. Each following thrust involved pulling from Harry’s grasping, greedy hold, only to slam in again, giving the boy more to pull in and tighten around.
“Fuck, pup… Fuck you get so tight… So perfectly tight and hot inside… I’m going to dirty you so bad… Walking around school horny and clean—Fucking disgraceful. My filthy pup needs to be kept nasty… dripping in seed… Fuck, that’s it… So tight…”
Harry moaned, his breath bouncing back at him from the gag. Remus was pushing in so hard, the man about to burst inside him. Harry ground down, clenching as hard as he could around the massive cock spreading his flesh so wide. God, he needed the wet. Fucking needed it…
Harry came with a muffled cry, channel clenching so tight that Remus snarled in his ear. While Harry’s cum streamed over the desk, Remus continued to hold himself deep in the boy’s tight hole, teeth grit, breath exploding in short, maddened puffs.
Harry tore the gag from his mouth then reached his hands behind him, trembling fingers over Remus’s strong hips. “Fuck me, Remi… God, fill me… Need you to fill me, please… Fucking do anything… anything, just fill me with your nasty cum…” He squeezed in rhythmic burst, hoping to break the man from his malicious self control enough to take him. “Fuck Remi… Claim me… stain me… So I know you’re my alpha… Fucking do it…”
“I will kill—fucking kill—anyone that tries to take you away, pup,” Remus promised, growling loudly, the sound echoing off the walls. Remus pumped in slow, rough jerks, Harry gasping from the feel of it. With a final, desk screeching thrust, he slammed into Harry’s aching passage, filling the boy with the much needed seed he was begging for.
Body shuddering, Harry moaned, spreading his legs wider, trying to get all of Remus’s cum as deep as possible. He froze, a noise drawing his attention across the room. “R-Remi…”
“I see it…” Remus whispered, reaching for his wand while the two of them froze and stared warily as the classroom door. Remus had spelled it locked. Had warded it. But the door was creaking a long whine, swinging inwards on its hinges as it opened. Remus quickly spelled the door shut.
“Get dressed,” Remus said abruptly, pulling from Harry’s ever clenching passage and tucking himself decent. He strode quickly across the room, tearing the door open and glaring down the hall. There was no one. No sound of footsteps scurrying away, no scent of flesh or emotion.
The hair was standing up on the back of Remus’s neck and he knew; sight, scent, sound, or not. Someone had been there. Someone powerful enough to get through the door. Someone intelligent enough to hide their scent and mask their escape. Someone suicidal enough to watch Remus fuck one of his young, and more famous of students, while Harry had said words like ‘alpha’ and ‘claim.’
This was not the two little bitches that hadn’t followed through with Harry. This was someone else. Someone dangerous. Someone that wanted Remus to know they had been watching.
Harry crept up behind Remus, fully dressed and only a little woozy on his feet. He didn’t say anything, just looked out into the hall with the man. “Do you have the map?” Remus asked, wondering if he could pinpoint who had just been there with the Marauder’s Map.
“Back in my room.” By the time they got it the spy would be long gone, hidden among the throngs of students.
Remus grunted, his mind racing. “Back to your dorm, Potter. I want you separated from the pack until I figure this out.”
Harry whined low in this throat, only mildly satisfied and knowing in about ten minutes he would begging for cock all over again. He wouldn’t dare argue with Remus over it, not with something as dangerous as this. He would go to his room, hide behind his bed curtains, and watch the map for suspicious people and flows of traffic. Hopefully not get the parchment too dirty from all the wanking he’d be doing at the same time.
“Y-You can put me down now,” Neville whispered. He was clinging to Blaise’s wide shoulders, hoping not to tip over the tall boy’s back as he confidently walked them through dark hallways and narrow passages deep in the dungeons of the castle. The black boy’s skin was entrancing, and Neville was trying not to stare—It was almost chocolate milk, but just a tad dustier. The boy didn’t smell dusty, more mossy and green, his strong musk very different from Harry’s almost maddening scent. Neville carefully pressed his face to Blaise’s long hair, sniffing discreetly. It was a good smell. Calming, like the forest.
Blaise quietly grunted, wrapping his arm tighter around Neville’s warm, slender waist. He had thrown the boy over his shoulder some time ago, afraid Neville would bumble instead of escape properly. Now he was having a difficult time finding an excuse to keep holding onto the sweet gasping bunny. Lupin hadn’t bothered to follow them, too busy seeing to his bitch. No one was around that they had to keep hiding from.
Huffing, Blaise stopped in the narrow, secret corridor they were in, and lifted the boy down. Neville swayed creamy and nude, clutching his ball of clothes and wand to his chest, and blushing. He glanced around Blaise’s large bicep, peering into the dim lighting. “Do you think he knows it was us?”
“No idea. Sure we’ll find out soon enough, though.” Blaise doubted Lupin would draw it out if he did know who had tried to have a tumble with his slut. Neville looked up when Blaise spoke, Blaise realizing just how close the other boy was, and just how little clothes Neville was wearing.
“Thanks for, um, getting us out of there,” Neville said shyly, looking very small and extra fluffy with his soft hair on end from being flipped nearly upside down.
“Yeah, well, thanks for spelling those locks up as quick as you did,” Blaise reminded. “He would have been on our ass in seconds if you hadn’t.”
Neville shrugged nonchalantly, but Blaise could see the pleased smile he was hiding. He really was just an adorable, fluffy thing. Blaise began to pat Neville’s hair down, relishing the squeak the boy made in reply.
Neville took a step back to keep Blaise from touching him. Biting his lip, he began to sort through his clothes, quickly handing the taller boy his shreds of shirt as he came across them. “S-Sorry I ripped it,” he mumbled, refusing to meet the boy’s piercing gaze. Blaise took the shirt, fingers catching Neville’s and pulling the blushing boy up against him.
“I really don’t mind, bunny… Really…” He traced his fingers over Neville’s face, the boy ducking his head and looking away.
“S-Stop… I don’t… I just wanted your help with Harry,” Neville whispered, tugging at the hand holding his wrist in place.
Blaise frowned, sighing deeply. “You like him.”
Neville nodded, peeking up and smiling secretively. “He’s great. B-Brave. Probably the most powerful student magically—Have you seen him fly? He’s really amazing. I never liked Quidditch until he joined the team.”
“You know he has a boyfriend, right? He’s been seeing someone starting right before winter break,” Blaise snapped, knowing he was being mean, and unable to care. Potter had fucking everything; fame, power—Hell, even a rich noble knight like Malfoy to protect the lucky prat. Why the fuck did he have to have Longbottom too?
Neville shrugged, a faint trace of anxiety crossing his doll like features before disappearing. “It won’t last. Harry and I are perfect for each other. We have a connection… Ever since first year, I’ve known Harry was the one. You wouldn’t understand…” Neville muttered, trying to duck away again, but Blaise wouldn’t let him.
Blaise resisted the urge to snarl. Fucking Harry Potter. It wasn’t even the boy, it was just some fucking dream of the boy Neville was chasing. Blaise still hated him. Potter didn’t even know how good he had it. He didn’t even look twice at Neville, except sometimes with pity.
“Bunny, did you like tonight?” Blaise asked instead, pulling the pile of clothes out of Neville’s hands and dropping them to the floor. He pulled the blond close, watching as his blush grew.
“L-Let me go, Zabini,” Neville whispered, pushing his palms unsuccessfully against the boy’s muscular chest.
“Just tell me you liked it.” Blaise ran his hands down Neville’s narrow back, sliding to his slim waist. He moved in slow, sensual strokes. Blaise knew Neville had liked it. The boy had been so sweet, dripping sweat and gasping eagerness. If he could just show Neville that it hadn’t just been because of Harry and his crazy sex scent, that Neville really liked it when Blaise touched him, maybe the boy would look at him the way he did Harry.
“I uh… I did like it,” Neville said haltingly, standing on tiptoes to keep from pressing up against Blaise. “But that was because… because Harry was there… and… and I like Harry…”
Blaise growled, wrapping Neville tight against his body and pushing him up against the wall. “Forget about Potter. That slut is getting fucked by his werewolf freak of an alpha. He probably gets fucked by a damn pack of people every day.” He licked up the boy’s neck, remembering how Neville had really seemed to like that.
Gasping, Neville closed his eyes. Zabini was very strong, muscles firm as his large arms held him tight. He wasn’t hurting, even though he was strong. But that wasn’t reason enough to let the boy touch him. Even if he had pretty eyes and a fierce, handsome face. “Please stop.”
Blaise growled again, louder and full of frustration. He continued to nip at the boy’s neck, sucking slowly, tongue lapping small swatches of wet. Neville tasted sweet and salty, his firm, creamy skin turning pink under his mouth. It was like licking salty caramel with a hint of vanilla, rich and heady, and perfectly sweet. Blaise moaned when he pulled the boy’s slender thigh up, the tasty blond hard and poking into his hip. “I know you like it, bunny… You can’t fake something like this.”
Neville whimpered, head falling back against the wall as he panted. So what if he was hard? It was easy to get him hard; it didn’t mean he wanted it. He never should have asked a Slytherin for help. It was his own damn fault. Even if Blaise had been indifferent towards him, he was still a bully, taking whatever the hell he pleased. Just like his horrible cousin.
Neville shivered, his body going limp. Thinking of Mason made him numb, inside and out. He could barely feel Blaise’s hands now, large palms sliding over his ass, slipping between his thighs, cupping his dick and balls. The sharp teeth nipping him were like faraway raindrops, dotting his skin but not fully wetting.
“Bunny…? Neville?” Blaise carefully turned the unnaturally still boy’s face towards him. Neville’s beautiful blue eyes were empty and far away. “Shit.” He pulled away with a snarl, hating himself even more when Neville just stood there, not blinking, just leaning on the wall waiting for whatever was going to come next.
“Get dressed, Longbottom. Get dressed and get the fuck out of here.” He pulled Neville’s shirt off the ground and pushed it in the boy’s grasp, the blond blinking and then startling, as if he hadn’t even been aware he was still there. Blaise growled, turning his back and stalking down the corridor to where it stopped suddenly in darkness. He grabbed the bottle of vodka he had left stashed there, taking a swig and trying to ignore the sounds of Neville putting his clothes on.
“How do I… Where are we?” Neville asked quietly, eyes cautiously tracing over Blaise’s back. The boy was stiff, puffed up and full of anger. Neville wasn’t sure what he had done wrong, but he didn’t want to stick around with an angry Zabini in a small narrow corridor he had never been in before.
Blaise turned sharply, slamming his hand down on a brick jutting out of the wall. A seamless door swung outward, opening up into one of the main Slytherin corridors. “Take two lefts, and then the third right,” Blaise snapped, pointing down the hall. “The moving staircase is just at the end of the sloping corridor after that.”
Neville nodded, meeting Blaise’s heated glare. “You’re… you’re angry at me.”
Blaise scowled, taking another long gulp of his drink. “Fuck off. Go run to Potter or something.”
Biting at his sleeve, Neville nodded, feet edging slowly towards the exit. That only seemed to piss Blaise off more, and the tall boy stepped back with another loud growl, leaning against the back of the corridor and giving Neville plenty of space to leave. Neville gave the angry boy a final, long side glance, watching as Zabini nearly drained the bottle of vodka in his tight grasp. He escaped out into the hall, the door sealing up behind him when Zabini crushed the same brick again.
Neville stared at the space for a quiet moment, the door completely invisible. He could smell it though, Blaise’s earthy scent and the caustic tang of alcohol. The boy had been furious. Neville bit harder on his sleeve, tripping slowly out of the dungeons.
Was Zabini going to bully him now, like he did the other kids that pissed him off? Neville had only seen Zabini hurt boys nearly the same size as him, usually much older, and just as strong and mean. Part of it had seemed to be that those boys thought the Slytherin was an easy target, having started school later than the rest of them, and stuck with kids a year younger in all his classes. Zabini was still younger than most of the upperclassmen assholes, but was totally stronger too. He had definitely proved it, even though the bullies kept looking to fight him.
Neville had messed up somewhere. He wasn’t sure how though. Zabini could have done whatever he wanted with him. That’s how Mason did it. His cousin didn’t even wait for him to go numb, just spelled him that way. Why hadn’t Zabini fucked him…? Was there something wrong with him? Neville sighed, shaking his head in annoyance. He didn’t understand sex. He knew that much. And he really didn’t understand people.
He wanted to see Harry. Maybe by the time he got back, Harry would be in the common room. If he came back at all that night. Harry spent a lot of nights out, likely with his stupid boyfriend. Neville didn’t know who Harry was dating, it being some big secret. Ron had told Seamus that he had thought it was a Ravenclaw girl—Neville had laughed quietly at that. Sometimes Ron was really oblivious.
Maybe Harry would even talk to Neville. They could talk about animagus forms and what it’s like to be a dog. Maybe even about sex. Harry could probably explain all these confusing things he kept messing up. Maybe even about how to get Zabini to not be so angry at him. Neville didn’t want the Slytherin angry at him. Not just because getting beat up by Blaise Zabini would probably be the most painful thing ever. Neville had endured a lot of pain and would continue to.
He just didn’t want Blaise angry at him.
Drunk, brooding, and very frustrated, Blaise spent most of his evening in the small hidden corridor still full of Neville’s sweet scent.
He should have stayed for the angry werewolf. Dealing with Lupin would have been much better than whatever fucked up nightmare of a shell Longbottom had become. Like some puppet… Like the boy had done it before, almost fallen asleep while someone pawed at him. But Blaise had been doing the pawing.
Blaise had been bad to the little bunny, and he was very fucking angry about it.
He needed to fix it somehow. Just… he didn’t know how. Neville was so quiet, always jumping and squeaking. Who the fuck even knew what the boy liked? Besides Potter. Blaise scowled. Fucking Potter. He was glad he hadn’t fucked the damn bitch. Potter would have liked it, and he didn’t want to do anything the goddamn lucky-ass Gryffindor liked.
Sitting in the corridor, knees bent, bare back leaning against the cool wall, Blaise ran his palm over the bulge in his pants, remembering Neville in the classroom. The bunny had been very sweet, all blushes and gasps. A strange mix of naïve and confident. He had sunk against Blaise, let him hold him while Potter had sucked the boy off. For some reason, Blaise was certain Neville had never been sucked off before… Even thought someone was fucking him…
Blaise unzipped, groaning softly as he wrapped his fingers around his hard dick. He should have just fucked Potter and been done with it. In the hallway by the Great Hall. Let the school see what a big slut the bitch was. Let the stupid bunny see just how terrible Blaise was, so he’d never have to worry about impressing the sweet boy. He was such an idiot.
Blaise had gotten to see Neville suck cock, and that had been fucking fine. Potter had clearly been experienced, but Neville… The bunny had been damn delicious. Chasing around Potter’s dick as if afraid to touch it with anything but his mouth. Sucking on him so guilelessly, like Neville didn’t even know how fucking hot he looked doing it.
Blaise groaned, hand moving faster over his cock. He was trying to hold back and build slow, but remembering Neville on his knees, face sweating and mouth so wide and full of cock, was undoing him. Then Potter had come all over the boy, dripping hot seed on his beautiful face. Blaise wanted to do that to Neville. He wanted to fuck his pretty rosebud lips and cover the boy with his cum. Blaise was much bigger than Potter. Neville wouldn’t even be able to swallow him all.
Eyes closing, Blaise pushed his hips up, trying to imagine Neville’s lips wrapped around his big cock. The boy would lick him, small, hesitant touches. He’d be shy. His eyes would be wide like when he had first seen Blaise’s dick, touching ever so lightly. God, the little bunny had touched him. No, Blaise was not regretting his night, even if it had not turned ideal.
Blaise looked down at his length, the darker flushed tip disappearing and reappearing between his fingers with each long stroke. He spread a bead of milky precum over his strained head with his thumb, trying to guess how far he would fit in Neville’s sweet mouth. He should have found out first hand. The fluffy bunny wouldn’t have fought him…
Blaise huffed, remembering how Neville had been, eyes so empty, body limp. His erection immediately flagged, and he pushed the thought away. It was not arousing, Neville like some drugged, half dead zombie instead of wide eyed, blushing and shyly smiling up at him. Blaise closed his eyes again, watching Neville try to take him into his tight, hot mouth, tongue contouring to his thick flesh and rubbing. Gasping… The boy would gasp… would choke slightly, so eager to pull him in, wanting to show just how good a job he could do…
Blaise came silently, hips jerking, cum streaming up his tense stomach in hot spurts. He relaxed back against he wall, fingers trailing through the slick white mess on his cocoa flesh. Would Neville swallow? Did he even know how…?
Fuck… fuck, he wanted that fluffy bunny. How the fuck could he fix this?
Blaise cleaned himself off with a quick spell, frowning from the brisk sensation. Neville wanted Harry. But Harry wasn’t fucking Neville. No… someone else was and he was the real competition.
Tapping his fingers on his abs, Blaise let his mind drift back to the conversation he’d heard, his first day back after winter break in the second floor bathroom. It had been five particularly idiotic upperclassmen and Crabbe, snickering in a corner, washing up after beating the shit out of some first year Hufflepuffs. Longbottom would suck cock if you made him. His boyfriend liked to watch and fuck the boy while he did. One of them had found out first hand Christmas eve, having been over at… Where was it…?
Blaise growled, sitting up as the name finally surfaced. The Pennyworth estate.
There were three Pennyworth brothers, parents long dead from the war. They varied greatly in age, the eldest nearly forty, while the other two were in there early twenties now. The youngest, Chad, needed a lot of support and was prone to extreme moods. He hadn’t always been that way, something happening to give him brain damage before fifteen. He was institutionalized, likely better for it given the other two brothers.
Theodore was some twisted shit, having never grown over five feet, and known for blackouts where he would beat the life out of small animals and cry about it after. Blaise had heard the guy cross-dressed, not necessarily by choice. Because Mason, the eldest, was fucked in the head. He had tried to sign up as a Death Eater, but the Dark Lord wouldn’t have him because the pathetic brute was almost a squib. It was said Mason took it out on his younger brothers, practicing magic on them to prove he had it in him. Rumor had it Mason had lost his shit one night and had nearly killed Chad, the boy never the same again.
The entire family was a disgrace, not talked about in proper society. Which only made it more pathetic that Longbottom’s Gran would send the kid over there for the holidays. They were cousins, and the old blue-hair probably thought she was doing them all a favor, getting Neville out of the stuffy manor and letting the Pennyworths have some human interaction. Blaise wasn’t so sure the brother’s should be around humans. Chad was the only decent one, and he was drooling away in the same facility as Neville’s parents, the group of them visiting together, if Blaise remembered correctly.
One of them was fucking the bunny, and Blaise had a disgusting suspicion it was Mason. He’d have to ask around to make sure… Discreetly. No one wanted to be connected with the Pennyworths. Too much crazy and not enough power. A waste of a perfectly good pureblood name.
It had been Tunsley… Tunsley had been fucked enough to actually admit to being at the Pennyworths’ Christmas Eve…
Blaise would not let the seventh year boy go unpunished for it.
Draco dragged himself back to the castle around midnight, Lupin showing up—without food—to warn they were all in potential danger and needed to scatter for a while. Draco had mixed feelings about it at the time, Black buried deep inside him and threatening to follow him to bed. It had sounded like a fine idea, especially because Draco would make his gruff cousin carry him. But Remus had put a stop to that, and all sex in general, when he explained what happened.
Remus and Harry were possibly outed, if not as a werewolf and undocumented animagus, definitely as a professor fucking a student. They all needed to be alert for the spy. Remus being removed from the school could leave Harry open to attack. Sirius had to go back to the snowy forest, but would stay close in case needed. For now the man insisted on prowling the grounds as Padfoot, scenting for anyone that might have followed Remus back to the shack.
Draco slept straight through Saturday breakfast and lunch, waking up hungry, sore, and decidedly sticky late afternoon. There was something off about him, but wasn’t quite sure what. He was horny, but that wasn’t new since hooking up with Harry a while back. It was something else. Something that on standing made him feel disoriented. Draco figured it out soon enough after his shower. When trying to pull his clothes on he found that his pants were too short and his shirt was pinching his biceps and chest. He had grown overnight, and thankfully not into a bitch.
Draco had worried a bit before falling asleep, wondering if he had been turned into another Harry. Not that Draco didn’t love Harry—he totally fucking did—but he sure didn’t want to be Harry. The boy was in a constant state of arousal, and was never fully satisfied unless full of cock. It was hardly an ideal existence. Draco knew how much his boyfriend suffered at times, and also how much Harry loved it.
He was upset he hadn’t gotten to see Harry at all yesterday. Hopefully the boy wasn’t moping, or worse, causing trouble. Harry was a fucking menace when upset; pranking, fighting, and all around surly. Draco planned to make it up to the mutt, even if he was a day late. Spelling his clothes to fit properly, Draco jogged up to the Great Hall to grab a quick, very late lunch.
He found Harry sitting on the steps going up to the Gryffindor tower, next to, but not talking to, a bunch of his chatting dormmates. Ron and Seamus gave Draco particularly angry glares, surprising since Draco had let up on the whole Slytherin vs Gryffindor thing once he had started seeing Harry. Harry didn’t care if he fought with the others, but Draco figured it would be best to not make life an absolute hell for Harry, seeing as the brunette had to coexist with the other boys for the next four years.
“Lost, Malfoy?” Ron jeered, standing along with Seamus and two Ravenclaw fourth years Draco hadn’t bothered to learn the names of.
“Yes, Weasel, I’m fucking lost,” Draco said with a bored air, pausing to lean on the banister. “That would be the only explanation for me to be looking at your damn spots right now.” Backing off didn’t mean Draco put up with Gryffindor shit.
Ron glared, stepping down the stairs and facing Draco. He hesitated, uncertainty crossing his features. Draco realized what the confusion was, Ron forced to look straight at him instead of down since the blond’s bizarre growth spurt of last night. Fucking brilliant.
“Let’s go, Malfoy,” Harry said, standing and hooking a finger into Draco’s belt loop. Draco glanced over, surprised Harry was actually addressing him. Usually the boy liked to pretend they were still enemies, not wanting to arouse suspicion. Apparently being in Harry’s pack came with other benefits, a very sweet one that made Weasley wail in disgust.
“What, you two are friends now!” Ron said angrily, turning on Harry. “You haven’t talked to me for weeks, and now you’re hanging out with bloody Slytherins? What the hell, Harry?”
Harry shrugged, completely uninterested. “Believe me, Ron, it’s not a competition.”
“Not one you’d fucking win, anyways,” Draco added smugly, surprised with just how good it felt to be able to walk by people with Harry at his side. Draco could definitely get used to this. He smirked when Ron flipped him off, turning away from the Gryffindor area of the castle and towards the stairs that led down to the dungeons.
“I didn’t realize you were hanging with them again,” Draco said, referring to Harry being with his housemates.
“Had to. Moony said I can’t be alone anymore until he figures out who was spying. Have to be with a group, or a packmate at all times—It’s going to get fucking annoying, really quick.”
Draco couldn’t help but agree, seeing as Remus and him were the only ones in the castle. Harry would have to be with the Gryffindors for hours on end. “Is that why I get to walk around with you now?” He asked, disappointed and completely annoyed that he cared.
Harry glanced over at him, grinning shyly and then quickly looking away. “No.”
Draco’s heart tripped, his blood feeling very hot in his veins all of a sudden. Smirking, he led them around a corner, then another, pushing Harry quickly into a room he had spelled open.
“Yeah? Then why, exactly, do I get the honor of walking side by side with the great Harry Potter?” Draco asked lowly, pinning Harry to the closed door, hands holding the boy’s wrists down.
Harry panted up at him, smiling wickedly while looking Draco over. He reeked of sex, and from what Draco had heard from Remus, had not had a very good Friday. “Because you’re going to be my mate, and I don’t want to have to fucking pretend to hate you.”
“That is a very good answer, mutt. Very fucking good…” Draco kissed the grinning boy, Harry snickering and nipping at his lip.
“Wolfie… you look different… Good, really good, but different…” Harry pulled his wrists from Draco’s grasp, hands moving over the taller boy’s arms, squeezing at his biceps. “Fuck… You bulked up overnight.”
Draco nodded, watching Harry’s face while the boy began pawing under his shirt. “Something to do with joining the pack. My magic feels stronger too… Your magic feels stronger…” He brushed fingers down Harry’s throat, the brunette pausing from where he had pulled at Draco’s silky, white-blond hair that now reached down to his nipples.
Harry looked down at himself, nose scrunching. “Don’t think I bulked much at all.”
“Let me be the judge, hmm?” Draco teased, eyes running over Harry’s oversized shirt. Frowning suddenly, he pulled away, stepping back into the room. “I got something for you. A gift.”
Harry blinked at him, gaze straying around the room for the first time. They had fucked there before, one of the Slytherin hidden lounges that littered the dungeons. “Is it sex? Please say it’s sex.”
Draco was pretty sure that went without saying. “Get over here, slut. I’m sick of looking at those horrible jeans.” He had ordered some things for Harry over winter break, somewhat shy to actually give the gifts to the boy. Harry was oddly proud of his rotten clothes, and had an even harder time receiving gifts than he did compliments and sweet words. Draco rolled his eyes when Harry frowned down at the pile of packages he had wrapped in brown paper.
“Draco, you didn’t have to…”
“Yes, I did,” Draco said, picking the nearest one up and tossing it to the boy. Harry caught it easily, frown only growing. “Open it. I’m not giving you an option, so you better fucking like them.”
Glaring as if the parcel was going to bite him, Harry cautiously tore the paper off, brows furrowing as… something was revealed. He shook the fabric out, the supposed black pants covered in silver chains and crossing straps. “What am I looking at here?”
“Pants. Fucking hot pants,” Draco said simply, tossing another package at the boy. Harry caught it one handed, staring at the strange pants before opening the next parcel. Draco reached over while Harry had his head bowed, snatching the boy’s glasses so he could finally do the spell he had learned. Harry ignored him, just bending closer to see what he was opening.
It was a shirt, thin stretchy material nearly see-through when worn over his arms, and less transparent on his torso. There were also half a dozen spiked belts and bracelets with the shirt, Harry wrapping a few around his wrist while he glanced over to see what Draco was doing.
“You’re trying to dress me,” Harry concluded, his voice void of any emotion. Draco glanced up, but continued his spell when he saw that Harry didn’t look angry. Harry went back to opening packages, less wary as he tore through the brown paper and began piling the clothes. There was a lot, more clothes than Harry had ever owned probably in his entire life combined—which wasn’t really saying much—and included briefs, socks, sneakers, and boots. It was all black, only hints of red or silver in the form of chains, zippers, clasps, and buttons. Harry tilted his head at the pile, not really sure what to make of any of it.
“Try it on,” Draco muttered, growling when the spell he was doing refused to stick.
Glancing uncertainly his way, Harry eventually shrugged, toeing out of his ratty sneakers and stripping off his jeans. He threw on the pair of pants nearest the top of the pile, fumbling to figure out how the flaps of materials and straps went. Harry had seen clothing like this before. It had been on a bunch of street punks, a group of angry assholes Harry had caught sight off damaging someone’s car in the middle of London. It had definitely caught his eye at the time, as had their violent behavior.
“So you… like this kind of clothing?” Harry asked as he zipped up, peering sideways at Draco, who was still muttering over his glasses. He had never seen the Slytherin wear anything like this. Harry would have remembered. It was a big deal to get the sexy prat in jeans half the time. Draco turned his back to him, trying to focus, so Harry tossed his oversized shirt to the floor, pulling out the nearest clean shirt from the pile. It was a soft black t-shirt with white skulls and blood red roses pictured. It was strange to wear clothing that fit, the shirt clinging to him in unfamiliar ways. Not bad though… It wasn’t bad. Just different. Harry grabbed the closest pair of sneakers, some brand logo he recognized as expensive, but hadn’t bothered to learn the name of. He clicked some more bracelets on, scratching the back of his head as Draco began to swear loudly.
“Fuck… Fine, whatever. Fucking stupid, bloody… Oh. It worked.” Draco turned, smiling brightly with Harry’s glasses in hand. Glasses he promptly dropped on seeing Harry. “Shit—Sorry.”
Eyebrows raised, Harry stooped and snagged his specs before his flustered boyfriend could step on them. His glasses didn’t feel any different. He placed them on his nose, raising his gaze to Draco who was staring, silver eyes piercing as they roved over him.
“One more thing,” Draco said lowly, stepping up to Harry and grabbing him by the shoulder. Harry’s glasses were again stolen away, Draco fumbling for a pencil in his pocket. “Stay still…” Harry gulped, motionless as Draco took the black pencil and ran eyeliner carefully around both his eyes. Done, he placed Harry’s glasses back on, hand grasping the boy’s messy locks and fluffing them up with intent.
“You seem to like this…” Harry commented, eyes following Draco as the blond began walking around him and running his hands over his new clothes.
“You don’t?” Draco asked, grabbing Harry by one of his pant straps and pulling him hard against his body. “You look like a fucking wild dog. Very much my mutt.”
Harry grinned, Draco running his tongue up his neck. “I’ll take your word for it. What did you do to my glasses?”
“Spelled them so they go invisible when you’re wearing them,” Draco said, nipping down Harry’s throat. He wrapped what Harry had first assumed was a long bracelet around his neck, clasping a spiky choker on him.
“Aren’t spikes counter productive to getting close to me?” Harry asked, his grin growing when Draco growled and licked over the metal and leather, then nipped Harry’s throat again. “Oh, I think you really like this, wolfie. You got me a whole bunch of clothes.”
“I want you to dress like this all the time. Give me your hands.” Harry did, Draco running his wand over each finger and painting Harry’s nails with black enamel. “I knew you’d look good. It just fits you, mutt.”
“If you say so. I don’t mind the clothes—I mean, I’m sure they’re not quite normal, but I was getting sick of the holes and crap.” Harry glanced over at his tattered old sneakers, trying to remember how long he’d actually owned the damn things. “The makeup though… might not wear that much…”
Draco growled again, snapping his wand behind Harry and quickly muttering a spell. He then turned the brunette, pushing him towards the summoned mirror. Harry blinked, grinning awkwardly at his reflection.
“You look hot.”
“Err… it’s different…” Harry mumbled, blushing slightly.
“It’s sexy. Over the desk sexy. On your knees sexy. Up against the wall sexy,” Draco whispered sensually into his ear, pulling on Harry’s collar and forcing his neck up. “You look wild.”
“Pretty,” Harry muttered. “I look pretty.” Without his glasses to hide them away, Harry could see exactly how the eyeliner made his green eyes pop even more beneath his dark brows, his lips somehow redder in contrast. The clothes fit him very well, Harry actually having a shape to his torso, revealing he had bulked a little bit after all from Draco joining the pack. His pants clung to his hips and ran straight down his legs to the bottom, looking actually really cool with all the straps. The black made his skin look paler, his dark features contrasting and pulling attention to his face.
Harry wasn’t quite girly, but it was definitely on the stop and stare at the pretty boy level, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. He had spent a lot of time trying not to be noticed. That would not be an option in these clothes.
“I like it,” Draco insisted, running his hand up, fingers tracing over Harry’s lips. “I like you sexy, and I want people to see you sexy. I want people to know that this fucking crazy, sexy mutt is mine.”
Harry glanced over at Draco in the mirror, watching his beautiful boyfriend try to lick his lips from an impossible angle. “Are you… embarrassed by me?”
“No,” Draco snapped, glaring back.
Harry shrugged. “It’s okay if you are. I mean, I’m kinda fucked up and all.”
“I am not embarrassed. Wanting to see you look as hot as possible does not mean I’m embarrassed by you,” Draco said gruffly, still refusing to let the brunette go. “I’m happy to hang out with you looking like a damn vagabond if you insist. I just prefer this instead.”
“Well… just… looking like this is kinda embarrassing for me,” Harry mumbled. “You know the guys are going to give me so much shit for the, um…” He pointed to his eyes and the kohl lining there.
“Who the fuck cares what they think?” Draco said with a huff, whirling Harry in his arms and holding the boy tight by his hips. “You look fucking amazing. And if anyone says shit, I’ll beat the fuck out of them.”
“You’re not going to—”
“Fine, you beat the fuck out of them,” Draco amended. “It’ll give you something to do. You know, besides running from me.”
Harry raised his brows, Draco looking very intense all of a sudden. “Why would I run from you?”
“Because every time I see you like this, I’m going to have to fuck you,” Draco growled, stepping Harry backwards until his legs hit the back of a sofa.
“Oh… okay,” Harry said, unable to look away from Draco’s searing silver gaze.
“And if you’re dressed like this all the time… well, that could get a bit messy,” Draco continued, pushing Harry’s t-shirt up. “Let’s see… Breakfast… I’ll probably have you right on the Gryffindor table. I don’t think you’ll be able to run far with so many people in the way.”
Harry gaped, eyelids half closing. “The t-table?”
“Yes… Three times a day on that table, I think. Fuck, maybe the bench. You could sit in my lap and ride me.” Draco smirked at Harry’s appreciative groan, hands finding and tweaking the boy’s nipples. “Then there’s class… We don’t have too many classes together, so that will make things a bit easier on you.”
Harry snickered, then gasped, Draco biting his neck hard. “Fuck… You don’t… Shit, wolfie, you’re kind of…”
Draco raised his head, cupping Harry’s cheek and gazing into his eyes. “What?”
Harry had wanted to say Draco was different. The boy was rarely rough, even though Harry had hoped he’d be. Draco was usually as vanilla as it came, besides his very delicious habit of saying nasty, nasty things to Harry to get him hot—Or annoy him. It was hard to tell because everything Draco said, Harry usually found hot. But this look was very much Draco, loving and attentive.
Draco was also a full half a head taller than Harry now, and had more strength in his already powerful hold. Harry grinned up at the very sexy boy, liking all the new little changes that were happening to his boyfriend. Remus had said Draco begged for cock with him and Sirius. Harry would gladly wear some fucking makeup if Draco stopped being so vanilla with him.
“You’re kind of nasty, wolfie.”
Draco inhaled sharply, pushing Harry down to his knees. “I think I have to be.”
“Yeah?” Harry reached his hands up, unzipping the boy’s jeans and nuzzling his face into Draco’s long erection.
“Yes,” Draco growled, tangling his fingers into Harry’s hair and pulling hard. Harry groaned, looking up, lips parted wide as he waited for Draco to fuck his mouth. “I’m going to make you mine, and I just can’t be fucking nice doing something like that. You don’t like nice much.”
“Sometimes I—“ Harry did not get to finish his thought, Draco pushing fingers into Harry’s mouth, touching the boy’s tongue, running saliva over his gasping lips. He hissed at Harry’s needy expression, quickly pulling the boy down, his hot mouth engulfing Draco’s cock, lips latching tight and sucking. Draco pulled Harry back enough so he could see the boy’s face clearly as he thrust shallowly into his mouth. The eyeliner was definitely sexy, along with the glasses-free view. It had taken him weeks to find that damn spell, and it had been worth it.
“Maybe I’ll stick to fucking your mouth in class,” Draco murmured, free hand reaching under Harry’s chin and fingering the collar there. He pulled it up, fingers moving to the back while Harry looked at him in wide eyed surprise. Harry opened his mouth wider, moaning around Draco’s thick cock, hot fluid running down his chin. Draco tugged at the collar, careful pressure on Harry’s throat, stealing small breaths of his air each time.
Harry had to fight the urge to pull Draco down and climb the boy until the blond mounted him already. His noble wolfie was not being prissy today, and Harry found it absolutely maddening. As if reading his thoughts, Draco tugged on Harry’s collar again, holding him by it longer this time, the pressure on his throat growing while Draco rubbed the head of his cock over Harry’s wet lips.
“F-Fuck,” Harry croaked, so hard he was certain he was going to come just from this. Draco definitely was. Harry could feel the boy’s cock swelling, bright red tip dripping drop after drop of precum on his lips and tongue. Harry opened his mouth wider, urging Draco to push inside. Draco didn’t, tightening his grip on Harry’s choker again, pushing against the boy’s tongue and tracing his swollen lips while Harry closed his eyes, fire moving through him from need and lack of oxygen. Harry gaped, jerking fitfully, his orgasm hitting him hard, his entire body feeling fuzzy and on fire at the same time while Draco’s cum rained down on his face.
“Holy shit, Draco… Holy fucking hell…” Harry moaned, swaying, feeling dazed and very much amazed at his boyfriend. Draco sank to his knees, thoroughly licking Harry’s face and kissing the boy’s lips.
“Did you like that?” Draco asked smugly, Harry barking in laughter.
“Just christened these nice new pants with how much I liked that,” Harry rasped, his voice rough and weak. He began pushing at Draco’s clothes, tearing at his shirt with quick, unsteady motions. Draco lifted his arms so he could be stripped, eyes lingering on Harry again in his black outfit and many bondage straps.
“I want to fuck you in these clothes,” Draco said decidedly, grabbing Harry’s wrists with one hand and pulling the boy close. Green eyes again staring at him in surprise, Draco reached for Harry’s zipper, unfurling it slowly and slipping his fingers inside. Harry groaned, hips rocking up, erection quickly renewing with each touch of Draco’s hand.
Harry leaned forward, tongue reaching out, licking over Draco’s lips, tasting, trembling. Draco growled, a very aggressive sound for Harry’s normally controlled boyfriend. Harry suddenly found himself flat on his back, belt being ripped open, pants and underwear pushed down just below his ass. Draco raised his hand up to Harry’s face, the brunette gasping and then eagerly licking his tongue out for his seed on Draco’s fingers. Draco pushed his dripping fingers into Harry’s mouth and ran them over his tongue. Harry wrapped his lips tight, so that when Draco pulled out, he got nearly everything he could drink.
“You still want this, right mutt?” Draco asked, pausing over Harry’s prone form.
Harry blinked up in confusion, then smiled brightly, hooking a leg around the boy’s waist. “I want to be yours, Draco. I want to be your mate.”
Draco nodded, looking very serious. “I… Well, I really fucking hope so, because I just went through a fucking hell of a night to join your pack. Not to mention the day that followed. And if you don’t want to be my mate after all that, I just don’t fucking know what the hell I’m going to do.”
Harry pulled the blond down on top of him, wrapping Draco tight, and ignoring the little hisses the boy made from his many spikes. “You could have come back with a tail and wolf ears, and I still would have wanted you, wolfie. You were so fucking beautiful—God, it was so hot to see you like that, under Sirius and wanting it so much. I was… I was afraid you’d be angry at me for drugging you…” Harry bit his lip, Draco meeting his gaze sharply. “Please tell me you’re not angry.”
Draco nipped Harry’s jaw, teeth holding him firmly in place for long moments. “I knew you were a demented, crazed mutt going into this, Potter. If you didn’t drug me once in a while, I’d worry there was something wrong with you.”
Harry grinned wickedly, kissing the boy hard with swollen lips. “I’ll remind you later that you said that,” he teased, trying to roll them. Draco wouldn’t let him, pinning Harry firmly down, glaring warningly. Harry couldn’t help but stare at Draco’s more defined arms, running his hands up the muscles. Draco wasn’t close to Remus’s size, but Remus was a full grown werewolf. Draco could likely take Zabini down, even though half a head shorter than the boy and still slimmer and more compact. Draco had a new, vicious glint in his eye that made Harry think that if pushed, Draco would be just like Remus and Sirius. Brutal. Unforgiving. Unstoppable.
“You’re moaning up a storm, slut,” Draco commented, watching Harry pant in earnest while rocking his hips.
“I like your… ah fuck… changes from joining the pack…” Harry answered honestly. He had been willing to accept Draco as a little prissy at times. This was very much ideal, and Harry was not going to complain.
“Yeah, well, I’m liking them too,” Draco said, suddenly pushing himself to his feet and standing. Harry stared up at him heatedly, green eyes bright with need, hand slowly moving down to his new pants and hard prick. Draco had planned on pulling Harry up and getting the boy on the couch, or maybe against the wall, but this was definitely good too, watching the brunette slowly touch himself in anticipation while wearing his very sexy new clothes.
Harry kept his eyes locked on Draco’s as he began pumping his cock in long strokes. Smiling lazily up at the pale boy, he licked his lips as he jerked his hips up with every squeeze. “Take your pants off. I want to see the rest of you,” Harry demanded, eyes moving over Draco hungrily and resting on his crotch.
Kicking his shoes off, Draco dropped his jeans and stepped out of them, toeing them across the floor. Harry was suddenly on his knees again, grabbing Draco’s underwear and tearing them down his thighs. Draco gasped, Harry turning him and pushing him up against the back of the couch.
“Did you like it, wolfie?” Harry asked breathlessly, mouth wide as he fanned heat over Draco’s smooth, pale ass cheek. Draco stilled, eyes closing when he felt Harry kiss to the center between his firm cheeks, wet lips sucking gently on his flesh. “You looked so good,” Harry moaned, running his tongue out, feeling Draco’s hips jolt forward as he tickled down his crack. “Fuck, I can still smell them on you…”
Draco groaned, Harry surging forward, tongue probing into his tight entrance and circling the muscles. Harry’s touch was very different from the damn powerful, relentless men Draco had been with yesterday, his love sweet and so overcome with need he could barely coordinate his movements from all his trembling. It made Draco feel weak in a different way, knowing Harry needed him this much, had wanted to touch him like this and Draco had been so foolishly afraid. He panted while Harry used his thumbs to spread his cheeks wider, delving deeper inside him, each touch of hot, wet tongue making Draco dizzy and wild.
Harry pulled away, gasping, shaking as he tried to get to his feet while climbing up Draco’s sturdy form. Draco quickly turned, pulling Harry into his arms, crushing the boy’s lips with his own. Harry’s trousers were sliding down his hips, keeping his legs from spreading wide enough. Draco tore them down harshly, wrenching Harry’s knee up, spelling the boy’s entrance slick and pressing his cock against his hole. Harry gasped, mouth wide in a silent cry as Draco rocked against his unstretched entrance with hard, taunting thrusts.
“Oh god… Draco… fuck…” Harry held onto Draco’s biceps as best he could, his body threatening to go limp from the overwhelming sensation of Draco forcing his entrance to stretch around the head of his cock.
“How do you want it, mutt?” Draco asked, burying his face in Harry’s neck, mouth biting quick, harsh nips of pain and pleasure. “It’s your mating—How do you want me to fuck you?”
Harry shuddered, eyes rolling back when Draco gave another, harder push, his body opening unbearably slow to the tip of the boy’s dick. Draco was bigger, Harry able to feel it very much so like this. Draco’s arms were so strong, holding his hips in place, keeping him standing while pressing unrelentingly forward. Harry gave a sudden cry, sobbing into Draco’s chest when the pale boy surged forward, his hole opening and holding the first inch of Draco inside him.
Eyes squeezed shut, Harry could only moan uncomprehensibly, Draco rocking them gently while still carefully pressing his hips forward in slow, eager pushes. Draco pressed Harry’s hair from his forehead, sweat dripping down the brunette’s face as he gasped harshly. “Do you like that, slut? Should I keep going?”
Harry moaned, certain he had never been more turned on in his entire life than to have his wolfie take him so rough like this.
“Is that a yes?” Draco asked, prying Harry’s chin up to force the boy to meet his eye. Harry didn’t say anything, just looked at his love with all he could feel and more. Draco swallowed hard, his arm moving down Harry’s back and cupping the boy’s cheek. “I think you’re going to like this,” Draco said hoarsely, right before lifting Harry up, wrapping the boy’s legs around his hips, and slowly letting Harry fall onto his cock.
“Oh fuck… Draco, Draco, I can’t—Oh! Ohhh…” Whimpering loudly, body jerking fitfully, Harry opened up to Draco, his slick passage not giving any resistance to the unbearable thickness suddenly pushing into him. He bit Draco’s shoulder, hands clutching at his back, pulling at his silky hair while Harry tried to keep his sanity. He was vaguely aware of just how strong Draco had gotten, the boy holding him up with ease as he leaned against the couch, muscles tight as he kept Harry from being filled too quickly.
“That’s it, Harry… that’s it… God, I knew you’d like this…” Not fully embedded, Draco pulled Harry up, shallowly fucking his shaking body a few aching, hard pumps. He then pulled Harry down again, inch by inch while the brunette sobbed from the sensation of being filled so completely. Draco held him there, trying so hard to keep from coming with Harry so damn tight around him.
Barely able to lift his head, Harry sought out Draco’s mouth, tongue weak and languid with each touch to the taller boy’s. “While it’s still… so tight…” Harry gasped out. “Bite me… while it’s…”
Draco didn’t wait for Harry to finish, pulling Harry’s choker up and clamping his teeth into the boy’s tanned neck. Harry howled, his body tightening as he jerked. Draco held him still, not letting him escape as his power rose up around the two of them. It was similar to the packbond, but felt so different, Draco’s power tingling around Harry, holding him close, promising to love him, and protect him, and never leave him. It didn’t force Harry down, instead Harry’s power rising to meet him, twining between them, binding them together in such an unfamiliar way, they both gasped in surprise.
Harry whimpered, feeling Draco confused and trying to withdraw the instant the spell had completed. He gripped his thighs tighter, holding on when Draco sank to his knees, still so deep inside Harry’s body. “Don’t stop,” he pleaded, holding Draco’s face, fingers caressing. “Just give it a second…”
Draco nodded blearily. He could feel Harry, so close, wrapped tight around him but also now connected inside him. He forced his eyes open, needing to know the boy was alright. Because if this was so emotional that Draco was struggling, there was no way Harry was dealing better. Sure enough, the brunette was fighting tears, his lovely eyes a watery pond of green. Draco smiled weakly, kissing Harry before the mutt could lose it. He then pushed the slender boy down on his back and pumped long thrusts into his agonizingly tight hole.
“Yes… oh god…” Harry’s entire body was tingling, each touch from Draco’s skin, inside and out, a jolt of electricity and fire. He could see Draco was having the same problem, the boy’s expression fierce as he tried to hold himself back, wanting to give Harry as much as he could before he came. “Please…” Harry muttered, pulling Draco down hard atop him, the boy’s weight crushing him into the floor. “I want it hard. I know you don’t like to…”
Draco growled, his only warning before the blond was suddenly moving, flipping Harry like a piece of paper and wrenching his hips back. He forcefully spread Harry’s thighs wide while the brunette grabbed the floor to keep from falling forward. Harry bit his lip, Draco breathing heat over his neck, tongue teasing the bite mark he had made as he pressed against Harry’s entrance with his cock. Not able to see him, Draco really did seem different to Harry’s senses. Dangerous. His tame, sweet wolfie had become wild and unhinged overnight. Harry really, really liked it.
Plunging into Harry with a growl, Draco held him tight, moving with hard, jolting thrusts while Harry groaned and pushed back to meet him. “Oh… Like that… fuck yes… again…” God, Draco had given so much to be with him. Had bent and twisted until he was this rough, wild thing just so Harry could be happy. And he was. He was so overwhelmingly joyful that Draco was his. “Draco… Draco, I love you,” Harry whispered, another tear stealing its way loose.
“Love you too, mutt.” Draco pushed Harry’s shirt up higher, giving him clearer access to the boy’s cock. Harry looked down, eyes widening when Draco suddenly slipped a leather cock ring around him, pushing it down to the base of his erect penis and letting it cling tight. “Draco…?”
“Just trying to slow you down,” Draco teased huskily, nibbling at Harry’s ear. “It’s going to be a long weekend, and I can’t have you getting tired on me early. And I do plan on making you tired.” He suddenly pushed Harry forward, the brunette resting his head on the floor while Draco ground into him ruthlessly.
Harry rarely got tired when it came to sex, yet his love was determined to make sure he did. Smiling goofily, Harry gave another loud cry when Draco slammed into his prostate. It was just some fucking makeup. If it made Draco happy, Harry would walk around naked. Fuck the rest of the school. Draco was his mate, was fucking amazing, and Harry wanted everyone to know.
Harry met Hermione’s gaze warily, not really liking her haughty expression. It had been a huge decision to come to the girl for help, and he was certain he was going to regret it. Hermione just couldn’t ever shut her mouth about things, and he didn’t mean secrets. No, it was more the thing Harry was certain was about to pop out of her mouth right now as she sniffed disapprovingly at his appearance.
“You do realize you’re wearing makeup, right? Like a girl.”
Harry had realized, Hermione not being the first one to point it out that week. “Actually, more like a rockstar, or punk, or goth, or just a guy wearing makeup. I’m not a girl. I don’t look like a girl, and really don’t care what you have to say about it. Now, about that spell?”
Huffing, Hermione narrowed her eyes. “Why should I help you? All Ron has done is complain about how mean you’ve been.”
“I haven’t been anything to him,” Harry snapped. “I haven’t said two words to him for damn ages. That’s not being mean.”
“Sounds mean to me. You’ve been a jerk, Harry, and I don’t know why I should want to reward that. If you did your own schoolwork, this wouldn’t be a problem.”
“It’s not—” Harry stopped himself, biting his tongue. He couldn’t ask Draco for help, because the boy would want to know why Harry needed help. Hermione was his only fucking hope, and she was being hurt and pissy. He forced himself to smile, knowing by her expression that he was failing. “I would really appreciate it. You have a lot of experience in finding information in the library that I just can’t. I just need to stop a smell. Charm it away—It can’t be covered up. It needs to be stopped. Or, I need to find a way for a person to not smell this smell. Anything you can find would be really helpful.”
Hermione sighed, pushing her bushy hair back over her shoulder. She had stayed up late studying in the empty common room, having caught Harry by accident coming in. The boy was always running around in the middle of the night, and Ron had said that Harry was hanging out with Malfoy of all people. Harry was just going to hell in front of her eyes, dressing like some hooligan and barely passing his classes. They had been friends once, but it was difficult to remember that when the boy was always brooding, playing mean pranks, and had started getting really rough and fighting whenever someone crossed him. Maybe that would have been okay, but Harry had also said some unkind things to her, things that had hurt extra because they had grains of truth to them.
“I’ll think about it,” she finally said, collecting her book and parchment. “I have my own schoolwork to do, and can’t just be distracted by everyone else’s problems.”
“That’s fair,” Harry said, hands in his pockets. Hermione stood, lips pursed as she looked him over. He was wearing a thin, nearly transparent long sleeved shirt, long shorts with flared legs and straps crisscrossing behind him, and calve-high, heavy boots only tied halfway up so the leather gaped open. He had a row of varied black bracelets nearly covering his left arm, his right only in one thick leather cuff. Harry’s hair, usually a mess, seemed almost intentionally so tonight, pulled in a way that looked attractive. Maybe he was trying to look a bit like some rockstar wannabe. Hermione had never been one for bad boys, but she could see the appeal, her former friend looking very handsome, his bright eyes almost memorizing with the eyeliner.
“What did you do to your glasses?” She asked, noticing for the first time that he wasn’t wearing them anymore. Harry reached up, fingers brushing his face and coming away with his suddenly visible frames. Hermione was impressed, looking at them carefully. “That’s pretty advanced magic. I didn’t know you—”
“I didn’t,” Harry said, slipping them back on, the glasses disappearing as they touched his skin. “Malfoy did it. He’s really good with complicated spells.”
Hermione blinked at that, eyebrows raised. “Did he… did he help with all your new changes?” She asked, wondering just what the hell Harry was doing with Malfoy, where the boy was giving him a makeover. Harry had been dressing like this for a good week now, although his school robes obscured a lot of it from sight during class.
Shrugging, Harry shoved his hands deeper in his pockets, looking for all the world like he just wanted to leave already.
It wasn’t like it was a normal makeover, either, Hermione mussed, her mind whirling. Harry had never liked to be looked at, didn’t even like it now when Hermione was blatantly staring. He hated being made a fuss of, and now the boy was dressing outrageously. “Did you… did you lose a bet, or something?” She asked, not sure she would believe that as being the answer. The clothes were expensive, and Harry looked attractive, not shamed and embarrased
Glancing up at her from his study of his boots, Harry smiled thinly. “Won, if anything.”
Hermione bit her lip, suddenly feeling worried for her old friend. Harry was so different lately, and now Malfoy had been allowed to just change him again. “Don’t forget what his father did to us, Harry. With Riddle’s journal. He could have gotten us all killed with that snake, and…”
Harry rolled his eyes, huffing as he took a step back. “Draco’s not his father. He doesn’t even like his father.”
“Are you sure?” Hermione pressed, reaching her hand out to him, only to immediately drop it. “He’s good at lying, remember? He could be using you. Trying to gain your trust. You’ve been really off lately. It wouldn’t take much to trick you.”
Scowling, Harry stopped his retreat. “Believe me, you have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”
Hermione didn’t back down. “How can you be sure he’s not using you? Trying to—What? Bribe you with new clothes? Show off how rich he is? Is he going to get you a new broom, too? His father is a Death Eater. You’re friends with the son of a Death Eater.”
“Boyfriend,” Harry said tightly, gritting his teeth. “Draco is my boyfriend.”
Gaping at him, Hermione placed her hand to her forehead. “Damn it… Harry, I didn’t…”
“No, just stop talking,” Harry growled warningly. “Because in about two seconds you’re going to start on about how fucking worse that is, because my head is up my fucking arse in love and can’t see clearly. You don’t know shit about him. You really don’t know shit about me, and I’m sorry I even tried to talk to you again.”
“But…” Hermione watched helplessly as Harry stormed up to his dorm. He was gay? She shook her head, sinking back into her seat. How the hell had she missed the fact that her friend of two years liked boys? Was this why Harry had been avoiding her? Had she been so insensitive that he just couldn’t even bare to be around her? Hermione didn’t know, but she felt like she needed to fix it somehow. For starters, by finding that spell he wanted.
Harry was so upset, he stomped into the bedroom he shared with the rest of the Gryffindor third years, not caring if he woke anyone up. They all had their bed curtains drawn with privacy charms up anyways to block out noise. It was standard procedure, no one wanting to get caught having a wet dream. Harry stripped fitfully, not even sure he’d be able to sleep now.
Stupid Hermione, putting her foot in her mouth once again. Draco had given up his fucking family to be in Harry’s pack, even if he hadn’t told anyone yet. The boy had fucking sacrificed so much, and Harry still wasn’t even sure why. Because Harry was hardly perfect in any way. He wasn’t clever, wasn’t particularly strong or fast. He could kick ass in Quidditch, but that wasn’t really something to go loving a bloke over.
He groaned, burying his head in his hands. Draco loved him and that was all that mattered. It didn’t matter why. Draco was brilliant, beautiful, witty, and apparently willing to learn and do some very nasty things to Harry to keep him happy sexually. He loved Harry so much he had mated him, and that was huge. He just had to remember. Draco loved him, even if Harry could not understand why.
He considered briefly seeing if Draco had gotten to bed already. He’d much rather curl in some dungeon room with the boy than ruminate alone with his messed up head. But Draco needed to sleep. His wolfie actually cared about school and grades, and Harry didn’t want to become a nuisance. Sighing, he threw his bed curtains opened, and was halfway onto the bed before he realized he wasn’t alone.
“Neville—Shit—Stop!” Harry hissed, finding his arms suddenly tied behind his back while he was pushed down into the mattress face first. The bed curtains were pulled tight around them, silencing spells muffling the small space. Neville suddenly lifted him, dragging him up the bed with a single, powerful move that had Harry’s eyes wide and heart racing all at once. What the fuck?
“See, Harry? Strong.” Neville straddled the boy’s back, hands moving beneath Harry’s shirt, touching firmly, digging fingers in and scraping his nails painfully. “I just had to find the right spell.”
“Get the fuck off me!” Harry struggled, trying to lift himself up and push the boy off, but without his arms it was very difficult. Not to mention, feeling a body pressing him down like this really got him hot, as did pushing back against it. “Damn it! Do you not understand anything? I have a pack! I have a boyfriend! I don’t fucking like you!”
Neville shrugged disinterestedly, tearing at Harry’s belt. Harry could say he didn’t like him till he was blue in the face, but as long as he kept smelling the way he did, Neville knew better. “I really like your new clothes. You look really hot—Really, really hot. I wish I was that brave. But looking at you… smelling you…” He groaned, leaning down to smell Harry’s hair while he rubbed his erection against the boy’s firm ass. “You want it so bad… and I want to give it to you…”
Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Neville, it’s just a fucking sex scent. You know I can’t control—Fuck! Vicious… rabid… bastard!” Neville hurt when he bit, teeth clamping in too hard, wrenching every time he pulled away, only to do it again. Harry whimpered, hating his body so much right now, the pain making him hard, each malicious snapping of teeth on his shoulders and neck flooding heat through him like a warm syrup of need. “Fucking hate you…” he gritted out angrily, even while pushing his hips into the mattress for more contact on his hardening dick.
Neville smiled into Harry’s neck, pushing the boy’s shorts down over his hips, along with his underwear. “No you don’t… Otherwise you would have told Lupin.” He gripped Harry’s outer thighs, nails biting in, scratching as he pulled up his sides and drew blood. Harry hissed from the pain, again trying to throw the boy off his back. “You like me… And you’re going to like me more, now that I made myself strong for you.”
God, he was feeling so hot, Harry finding his breath coming out in harsh pants. Every pull of his arms in their bonds seemed to go straight to his cock, his inability to escape somehow maddeningly sexy when combined with Neville’s sudden strength. “Stop… biting…” Harry gritted out, the blond again tearing into his flesh, leaving welts and breaking his skin.
“It feels good,” Neville moaned, opening his mouth wider, tongue pushing out to taste the trickles of blood. He liked the taste of Harry’s skin, and he liked how his mouth got sore, his lips raw with every nip, jaw tight, the feel of firm flesh on his teeth. He clamped his teeth into Harry’s shoulder, biting hard on the muscle. Harry groaned, hips pushing back against him, and Neville knew the boy really, really liked it. No matter how much Harry yelped when he then wrenched his mouth away, teeth scraping and pinching.
“I want to fuck you, Harry. It’s my turn.” Neville pushed up Harry’s thin shirt as much as he could on the boy’s torso, fingers slipping underneath and seeking out his budded nipples. “I don’t care how many you have in your pack, and what you let them do to you. Just as long as you play with me sometimes…”
“Fucking—Bastard!” Harry hissed, Neville twisting one of his nipples so hard, he wasn’t a hundred percent certain it was still attached. “Stop being so fucking rough… ohh… oh fuck…” He gaped, thighs spreading unconsciously wider, his boots catching on the blanket.
“You like that, right? I can tell… It hurts, and then you like it… and you smell even better…”
Harry whimpered when Neville twisted the same flaming bud, the boy’s fingernails digging in. He was grateful for the sweat, making it harder for Neville to hold as tight even though the boy still managed to make it hurt. Shit, what the hell was Neville’s problem? “Damn it… You don’t have to hurt me to—Fucking shit! Seriously, stop biting!”
Neville snickered into Harry’s skin, teeth pulling harshly as he released, leaving a dark welt. “I like it. You can bite me whenever you want, Harry. You can do whatever you want to me, and I promise I’ll never get angry.”
“I don’t want to do anything to you, you crazy idiot. I just want—Crap, don’t do that… Really, don’t… oh fuck…” One of Neville’s hands had made its way down the front of Harry’s bare torso, fingers wrapping around his dick. Harry panted, praying the boy would show some damn restraint.
“You’re hard,” Neville whispered, licking up Harry’s throat, letting his weight sink down fully on the boy while he rubbed against him eagerly. “You’re hard because you like what I’m doing to you.”
Huffing, Harry turned his head to the side, trying to breathe against the bedspread. “You wouldn’t have tied me up—Oh, gentle! Please, for the love of god, do not hurt that!” Harry pleaded, eyes squeezed shut when Neville started scraping fingernails against the silken flesh of his hard cock.
“Just a little,” Neville promised, squirming against Harry’s back as he pushed his own pants down. “I wouldn’t want to hurt you here… I really like how hard you get, Harry. I like knowing I can make you hard—That you like what I do to you.”
Harry, all his attention focused on the dangerous fingernails now traveling towards his very sensitive head, and even more so slit, didn’t reply. If Neville couldn’t fucking figure out that jumping him, tying him up, and using magically enhanced strength was the only way Harry would even look at the boy twice, he would not be able to convince him now when his pants were around his thighs and his cock was very hard in the boy’s grasp.
“You know… I think we’re even about the same length,” Neville remarked with a smile, Harry hissing when the boy’s nails slid from the very tip of his cock down to his balls. Then Neville’s palm was wrapping around him, too dry, the small scrapes feeling like burns as the boy began to pump him.
“Neville—Shit—Lube, saliva, something!” Harry choked out, groaning even with the pain, his body responding with jolting hips.
“I know it hurts… but sometimes it’s supposed to hurt,” Neville mumbled, his free hand suddenly sliding between Harry’s tight cheeks, seeking out his pucker. Harry had been with Draco that night, the Slytherin transforming into his wolf for him to make sure Harry would be full and satisfied until the next time he had a chance to see his love. Harry was extremely grateful for the stretching that had involved, Neville briefly pressing his thumb into Harry’s opening before immediately withdrawing and pressing the head of his cock between his cheeks.
“Just wait one fucking…” Harry trailed off with a hiss, wishing he hadn’t cleaned up before the walk through the halls, not even remotely enough lube to make things slick. As long as he didn’t—Son of a— “Damn it, Neville,” Harry whined loudly, his hole clenching tight around the too dry intruder, the fucking coyote not even remotely as small as Harry had hoped. God, why was his body turning on him tonight?
“You’re so hot… so tight inside…” Neville groaned, gripping Harry’s hip painfully, nails digging in as he thrust forward.
“It hurts… you fucking… ass…” Harry whimpered angrily, his entrance burning with every inch Neville forced into him. At least the coyote had enough precum, enough fucking fluid to not burn every damn surface of Harry’s insides. At least when Draco had taken him unstretched, he had been slow, allowing Harry to adjust with every perfect push. If Neville had ever fucked anyone, Harry didn’t believe it, and he was very unhappy to be the ignorant kid’s trial run.
“Its ‘cus you’re so tight… You are really… wow…” Neville took a deep breath, burying his face into Harry’s neck. “God Harry, you feel so good inside… I dreamed of fucking you one day, but it never… god, it never felt this good…”
Harry groaned, gritting his teeth and praying the annoying fuck would cum already and let him go. “Neville… read a fucking… sex book… and stop…”
“Shh… Just close your eyes,” Neville murmured. “I’m gonna just… and you’re gonna like it so much…”
“Stop, you fucking—Nails!”
Neville growled into Harry’s neck, fingernails again digging into the boy’s hard cock. “Be nice, Harry. I could have called you fucking stupid names… made you drink terrible potions… I could have dressed you up in horrible clothes…” Neville kissed the side of Harry’s neck, his hand lightening in pressure. “But I like you, and I want to do things that you’ll like.”
“Neville… If you don’t listen to me… then you can’t know that I don’t like it!” Harry snapped back, groaning when Neville suddenly gasped, sinking in the last painful inch, Harry’s hole unbearably tight.
“I know you like it,” Neville insisted. He bit Harry’s shoulder, the brunette moaning, his traitorous body just happy to be filled. “You really feel… so good inside…”
“Oh hell, Neville… my prick is not a handle. Now let it the fuck go,” he snapped, sighing in relief when the boy finally released his aching length. Only to groan, Neville grabbing his hips with both hands, using the leverage to drive Harry forward into the mattress.
“Tell me… if I’m doing it right,” Neville whispered into Harry’s ear, lips wet on his skin. “I really want you to like it, Harry. When I’m with you, I want you to be happy.”
Harry really hated Neville, especially when his body was finally full of cock and the boy refused to move. “Just… just move, Neville… Damn it—And don’t be so rough.”
“You like it rough.” Neville groaned as he slowly withdrew from Harry’s tightness, only to quickly slam back in. “You keep getting tighter… like you’re pulling…”
“Listen to me,” Harry growled. “There is a—oh god—difference between rough and… and really fucking painful…” He trailed off, moaning lowly. Shit, why did he have to like sex this much? If his body knew a difference, it did not seem to care. “And without something slick, like a lube charm… it just hurts…”
Neville stilled, resting his chin on Harry’s shoulder. “Lube?”
“Oh, for fuck sake! Tell me you’ve heard of lube,” Harry demanded, glaring back at the boy, his bound arms sore and his raw hole even more so.
Neville shook his head no, lip caught between his teeth. “What is it?”
Harry gave a long suffering sigh, promising himself he would beat the shit out of Neville once he was free. “It’s usually an oil safe to use on the skin, the good stuff is natural and long lasting—It makes things slick, so when you’re fucking it doesn’t hurt.”
Head tilted, Neville suddenly smiled down at Harry. “That would probably help. I didn’t want to say anything, but you are really way too tight, and I bet—”
Harry buried his head in the mattress, swearing loudly. He wouldn’t be tight if the stupid fucker had stretched him, and lubed him, and oh, just wasn’t fucking raping him. He hated Neville, fucking hated him. “Wand!” He abruptly ordered, Neville staring at him dumbly for a moment before complying.
“Ducatus coitus,” Harry intoned slowly, so Neville could repeat it. Staring at the slick, gel like material suddenly all over his hands, Neville gave it a sniff. He flicked his tongue out, brows furrowed.
“Why does it taste like strawberries?”
“Because wizards are pervs,” Harry grumbled. “Just use it so it doesn’t hurt so much.”
Shrugging, Neville extracted himself from Harry’s clenching rear, the brunette hissing the entire time. “Oh… oh, that’s really…” Harry glared up at the boy while Neville ran his slick hand over his cock, the blond sighing, cheeks flushing brightly from the sensation.
“Better?” Harry asked gruffly, annoyed with just how cute Neville looked, the boy’s tongue sticking out between his lips, eyelids fluttered shut while he gasped softly against his skin.
“It’s amazing… I never thought…” Neville trailed off, glancing away from Harry’s gaze.
Harry sighed. The boy was really messed up. “Neville, don’t let anyone fuck you without lube. That’s just a really shitty thing to do to someone.”
Neville glanced back, biting his lip again. He wiggled up Harry’s back until their foreheads were pressed together. “If you fucked me, would you use lube?” Neville asked, eyes intent on Harry’s.
Pursing his lips, Harry nodded once. “I prefer to be the one getting fucked. But yes, if I were to fuck a bloke, or even give him a proper, good hand job, I’d use lube.”
Eyes moving over Harry’s face with something far more annoying than simple attraction, Neville moved closer, brushing the side of his nose to Harry’s. “Do you think you’d ever want to fuck me? I… I really want you to fuck me, Harry. I don’t think I ever wanted anyone to, but there is just something about you… that I really like…” He pressed his lips carefully to the brunette’s, knowing at least in this it shouldn’t hurt.
Staring blankly at the maddening idiot kissing him, Harry eventually sighed. “Neville, untie me.”
Gnawing on his lower lip again, Neville pulled away. “Now,” Harry demanded when the blond hesitated. With a heavy sigh, Neville picked up his wand and tapped it to Harry’s bonds, the ropes evaporating. Harry stretched his arms out, rubbing his wrists and rolling on the bed. “Well, come on. Take your damn clothes off,” Harry said with a huff.
“Huh… um… what?” Neville mumbled, eyes widening when Harry suddenly reached up and began tugging off his school shirt.
“You can’t have sex with clothes on—I mean, you can, if that’s your kink, but it gets damn messy, really quick. And skin just feels so much nicer…” Harry pulled his own shirt up and extracted the sleeve from his many bracelets, finding Neville again, the boy’s expression still very confused. “Don’t get the wrong idea, you idiot. I have an amazing boyfriend, and a pack. I just really happen to like sex… and since you’re already here…”
Neville nodded dumbly, eyes lingering over Harry’s nipples. “But…”
“You know what? You probably shouldn’t talk either,” Harry muttered, kicking his shoes off and getting his shorts and underwear down. When Neville still made no move to continue, Harry grabbed the boy by the open ends of his trousers, pulling his pants down roughly to his knees where they knelt. Neville blinked down, suddenly holding Harry’s hips for balance while looking at their flushed cocks.
“Are you going to fuck me?” Neville asked, lube slicked fingers reaching for Harry’s length and rubbing over the straining head.
“No,” Harry said flatly. He was pretty sure fucking Neville would just make the kid completely beyond in love with him, and Neville obsessed was absolutely bad enough. “If you want to put it in me, that’s fine, but that is the most you’re getting from me effort wise. Now kick your pants off the rest of the way.”
Neville did, having to sit to extract his slender legs from his trousers. He was watching Harry warily, as if not knowing if he could trust the boy all of a sudden. Which only made Harry worry more about the damn kid. Neville was perfectly fine to chase after him when Harry was saying no, but the second he gave him an in, the blond was paranoid. There was something seriously messed with the kid.
“Why are you doing this?” Neville asked, bottom lip caught between his teeth.
“Does it really fucking matter?” Harry retorted with a derisive snort.
“Kind of… You’re not so lost that you can’t run away… and… you’re being oddly nice…” Neville mumbled, crawling up the bed and stopping at Harry’s kneeling form. “I know you don’t… don’t really like me, Harry.”
Harry really hated his life. “Neville, you’re not a bad guy… besides the raping…” Harry trailed off, really having nothing more to add to such a fucked up statement. “But, if you’re going to fuck a bloke, you should at least do it proper. I mean, damn, you fucking hurt. It’s not cool.”
Neville nodded, wetting his lips as he sat back. “I don’t really know how else… I just thought that was how it was supposed to be.”
“Shit, no one would have sex if all they did was hurt each other,” Harry said in exasperation. “No nails. No biting—”
“But you like the biting,” Neville insisted, brow furrowed in confusion.
“Not the way you do it. Let me show you,” Harry said abruptly, edging closer to the boy who was looking at him as if he were about to hex him. “Just relax,” Harry grumbled, annoyed that not only was he doing this, but suddenly Neville needed a peptalk too. He braced himself on the blond’s shoulders, ducking his head to brush his mouth to Neville’s neck. Ignoring just how stiff the boy was sitting, Harry carefully sunk his teeth into Neville’s neck, tongue lapping slowly while he breathed out through his nose. Neville made a soft noise, slowly relaxing under the touch.
Harry pulled away, making sure not to wrench his teeth like Neville had a terrible habit of doing. “There. Want to try?” He asked, tilting his head to the side in offering. It took a moment, Neville blinking dumbly. Then the boy slung an arm around Harry’s chest, growling as he buried his face into the brunette’s throat and clamped his teeth in. Harry groaned from the sensation, really hoping that the bite would end as good as it started. Thankfully, Neville had been paying attention, and even though he bit harder than Harry had shown him, he didn’t tear at him afterwards. “Good… that’s really good,” Harry said with a flush, pushing his damp hair back from his eyes.
“What else?” Neville asked, tension draining from his form, a small, eager smile on his face.
“Nails,” Harry said, smirking back. “You dig them in too hard. It’s not supposed to hurt…” Harry didn’t bother to add that sometimes some hurt was really fucking good when at the right time. Likely a bit too complicated for the boy currently looking at his hands. Harry reached over, running his short fingernails over Neville’s stomach, the boy gasping and quickly grabbing his wrist. “Too much?” Harry asked, confused by the reaction.
“No… just felt really good.” Neville bit his lip, slowly letting Harry’s hand go. The wariness was back in his blue eyes again, but still, he reached over and repeated the move on Harry, this time not drawing blood or hurting skin. “Is that better?”
Harry nodded, wondering just what the hell was going on in the blond’s head. “I can… show you how to kiss,” he offered, watching the boy’s expressions. There was definitely some sort of fucked up thing happening in that pretty head of Neville’s.
“Um… okay,” Neville said after a long moment, leaning forward on his hands. Harry hesitated, Neville not closing his eyes even inches apart. He carefully placed his hands over the boy’s face until Neville got the point and finally lowered his lashes. “You want to feel it. When your eyes are open, it’s hard to feel as much…” Shaking his head, Harry leaned in, brushing his lips to the boy’s.
Neville was trembling like a leaf, and Harry began to worry that he had definitely made the wrong choice to indulge the boy. Hopefully it was just nerves and not some loving quiver. He cupped the blond’s cheek, pulling him closer, kissing him with more pressure. Neville exhaled sharply through his mouth, Harry smirking to realize the boy was holding his breath. “Breathe through your nose if you can,” he murmured, reaching his tongue out and slicking gently over the boy’s bottom lip. Neville whimpered, mouth going slack, letting Harry slowly nibble at his lip, drawing the pink flesh into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue.
Gasping, Neville pulled away, burying his face into Harry’s cheek. Studying the boy’s expression in the dim lighting, Harry nudged Neville’s chin, kissing him again, tangling his fingers into the blond’s soft hair and pulling muffled gasps from his lips. Neville’s tongue was uncoordinated at best, but he made up for it with passion, the boy meeting each of Harry’s touches eagerly. And then something changed, and Neville was definitely winning the kiss, the boy grasping forcefully at Harry’s shoulders, tongue delving into the brunette’s mouth.
“Hell,” Harry grunted, Neville pushing him back, down to the bed, giving him a moment of respite before attacking his mouth again while pinning him. And this time Harry really didn’t mind, no nails digging in painfully, or horrible bites to take away from the very nice feeling of hot, smooth flesh and wet mouth. Neville trailed down Harry’s neck, kissing and biting, groaning each time Harry moaned.
Harry wrapped a leg around the boy’s hips, letting his hands slide carefully down Neville’s back. The boy was oddly jumpy, startling sometimes when he wasn’t expecting Harry’s touch. So Harry just kept his palms flat, a constant presence as he moved over Neville’s flared shoulders, trim waist, and the swell of his ass. He squeezed gently, Neville pulling from where he was sucking breathlessly on Harry’s collar to meet the boy’s eye.
“You can tell me not to do something, you know,” Harry said after a moment, not sure what the blond needed, but getting an idea that Neville didn’t like to be touched much.
“No… I just… It feels good,” Neville mumbled, looking away. “I’m just not used to… that.”
“Well, then you’re definitely with the wrong people,” Harry said lightly. “There’s nothing wrong with feeling good. By definition, it’s good to feel good.” Neville nodded mutely, eyes making their way back to Harry’s. Head tilting, he kissed the brunette, Harry suspecting just to shut him up at this point. He didn’t care. Harry knew Neville was fucked up because he recognized his own messed up self when looking at the boy. For right this minute, Harry decided he didn’t have to hate that either.
“Wait,” Harry paused, breaking from the long kiss when Neville started shifting his hips. “The other way,” he said, untangling his leg and rolling on the bed. There was no way he was going to let Neville fuck him face to face like that. The boy kept looking way too sad at times, and it was a total mood killer. He raised himself to his hands and knees, stretching out as he waited for the blond.
Neville summoned more lube, sounding rather proud of himself as he ran his fingers down between Harry’s cheeks. Harry rolled his eyes when the boy began to slick his hands over his hard length next, completely oblivious to the need to stretch. Shifting down to his elbow, Harry did it himself, quickly probing his own lube slick fingers inside his hole, gasping from the feel, his body clenching, entrance burning painfully from the rough treatment of earlier. Harry had gotten over worse for a desperately needed fuck, and although this was not one of those times, he was sure he’d be fine.
“Does that… feel good?” Neville asked, curling over Harry’s body, head lowering to the brunette’s. “You really seem to like it.”
Harry held back a laugh at the question, a moan escaping instead when Neville pressed his thumb against his already finger-stuffed hole. “Oh fuck… that’s… that’s…”
Seeing that Harry really seemed to like that, Neville swallowed hard, wiggling his thumb back and forth while watching the brunette’s face. Harry gave an aching cry, gasping against the bedspread with each rock of Neville’s digit. Biting his lip, Neville pulled Harry’s fingers from his entrance, pressing the head of his cock to his hole instead. Every reaction Harry made seemed to make Neville hotter than any scent or touch had done, his eyes caught on the brunette’s bowed head, Harry whimpering as Neville slowly drove into him.
Neville closed his eyes, gaping from the feel of Harry, so hot, and now slick, the boy’s channel clenching around him.
“Fuck… move, Nev… don’t just stay still…” Harry pleaded, pushing back, thighs spreading wider as he rested his head on his folded arms.
Wetting his lips, Neville rocked back, keeping his eyes closed so he could feel every tight inch of Harry trying to hold him in. He groaned as he surged forward, feeling the boy open to him again, Harry making an appreciative cry in reply. It was good. He was actually fucking Harry, and felt really, really good.
“That’s it,” Harry gasped out, Neville picking up speed, his thrusts, combined with the spell that made him stronger, pushing Harry forward up the bed until he was grabbing the headboard to keep from cracking his skull on it. “Harder, Nev… fucking do it… hard…” he demanded hoarsely, bracing himself so he could push back into each driving jolt of pleasure.
Neville grunted, Harry growing unbelievably tight and trying to hold him still, even while demanding he move harder. But he really wanted Harry to feel good. He reached around Harry and grabbed the headboard as well, gasping in the boy’s ear while he used the new leverage to drive into the brunette forcefully.
“Oh yeah, that’s it… just… like… that…” Harry moaned, rocking with Neville, his already aching hole so sore and loving every wet, bruising thrust. “Fuck, don’t stop… just a little more…”
“Oh!” Neville gaped, Harry suddenly squeezing him so tight, he couldn’t do anything but slam forward, holding the brunette’s sweaty body while he came inside his clenching hole. He only had an instant to worry that he had very much done the opposite of what Harry had so achingly demanded, when he felt the boy come, Harry falling forward onto the headboard, gasping for air.
“Wait… just stay a sec,” Harry whimpered, hand reaching out behind him to grab Neville’s arm and keep it wrapped around him. “God, it feels good inside… just let me be full for a bit.”
Eyes wide, Neville slowly sank forward, resting his chin on Harry’s shoulder. Harry still had bracelets on, Neville running fingers over a few while they panted together. “You liked it,” Neville whispered, pressing his cheek lightly to Harry’s.
“Yeah… well… I like sex,” Harry murmured back, hardly about to apologize for it. “Did you like it?” He asked, green eyes flicking open to glance sideways at the pensive looking blond.
“I’m not sure…” Neville said truthfully, fingers twisting into one of Harry’s bracelets. “It’s a lot of work, all that thrusting. And… and it felt… well, it felt… And I don’t know how I feel about feeling things.”
Harry chose not to comment on just how odd a thing that was to say. “When it feels good, I really enjoy it. And sometimes, when it feels good with just a little bit of pain, that’s even better. But if it doesn’t feel good, I know I don’t want to feel it.” He sighed, straightening a bit, still holding onto Neville’s arm to keep the boy deep inside. “As for all that thrusting, well, it’s great exercise. And when you bottom as much as I do, you really don’t have to worry about it much. I’d rather let some powerful, usually sexy prat do the work for me while I cheer him on enthusiastically.”
Neville nodded, mind straying to the boy he had been trying very hard not to think about lately. “Hey, Harry… What do you think about Zabini?”
Eyes again glancing Neville’s way, Harry raised a brow. “Um… I guess he would fit into powerful, sexy prat, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I think he likes me,” Neville said after a moment, resting his cheek on the boy’s shoulder. “Except… he’s also angry at me…”
Harry snorted softly. “That seems about right. Did he hit you, or something?”
“Nah… he just kinda glares at me now… like all the time. He tried to kiss me and stuff… and I guess I just wasn’t any good.” Neville shrugged.
“Well, he seemed more interested in you than me the other week, which is really saying something with my sex scent,” Harry said, releasing Neville’s wrist and wiggling his way free. He stretched his arms over his head, sitting out on his bedspread while Neville sat back. “The Hogsmeade weekend is coming up. If he seriously likes you, I bet he’d really want to go with you.” Draco was taking Harry out for their first official date that weekend, promising some sort of fancy dinner or something equally romantic and embarrassing.
“I got banned…” Neville muttered, internally cursing his potions professor.
Harry winced. “Forgot about that… Snape’s a total ass. It doesn’t matter, Nev, trust me. The kid likes you. Just talk to him, or some shit. You don’t even have to say anything interesting. He’s a guy, and guys really don’t give a fuck.”
Neville wasn’t so sure, worried if Zabini was really angry at him, that he might try to hurt him. But so far, Blaise had proven that even when upset he wouldn’t hurt Neville, so maybe that was enough to at least try and set things right with the Slytherin.
Harry threw Neville’s pants at him, giving him a stern, sleepy look. “Only time this is ever going to happen, so don’t forget. My boyfriend is a right bastard when he’s crossed, and honestly, you deserve a beating for what you did, Neville. I’m not some fucking sex toy. Get a blowup doll or something. Definitely read a fucking book about all this stuff.”
Neville bit his lip, drawn back to the present as he slipped his shirt on. “Sorry… you’ve just been looking really good… And you really shouldn’t wear shorts, ‘cus it only makes the smell worse,” he said while blushing. “It was really hard today, being in the same classes with you smelling so good…”
Harry grimaced, not having even thought of that. “I’m trying to find a way to stop my scent. Until then, you need to get some fucking self control, Neville. You don’t see Zabini trying to break down the common room door, do you?”
“I know… just sometimes things get really hazy… and I don’t really know what’s happening…” Neville trailed off, shimmying into his pants and zipping them up. It was why he had so many problems in some classes. Not just because he got nervous with everyone making fun of him, but because sometimes he just sort of went blank, and couldn’t remember the class at all. “I’ll, uh, let you get to sleep,” he said, reaching for the curtain.
Harry held his hand up, waving Neville back. “I’m serious, Neville. Fucking deathly serious here. If you try and pull something like this again, I’m telling Lupin. I don’t want to, but I can’t be worried about you jumping me in my bed every fucking night. I don’t care how fucked you are in the head. No more.”
Neville nodded, sighing heavily. “I understand.” He slipped out before Harry found anything else to be angry about, certain the boy had a list. Neville really couldn’t do things right. He wasn’t a hundred percent sure when he had decided to hide in Harry’s bed hangings and wait for the boy. And at the time, he really hadn’t thought he had been waiting just to fuck him against his will. Neville never wanted to hurt Harry. He really liked the boy.
He had remembered he had wanted to talk to Harry… And then Harry’s bed had been full of that crazy scent…
Neville sighed again. Maybe it would be better if Harry did tell on him. Maybe Lupin hurting, or expelling him would keep Neville from doing anything else really terrible.
“Just ignore them.”
“I am ignoring them.”
Harry glanced over at Draco, taking in the boy’s grim expression and tense shoulders. “You’re growling. If you were ignoring them you wouldn’t be growling.”
Glaring down his nose, Draco didn’t say anything, his growl still rumbling low in his throat.
They were walking to Hogsmeade. It was the weekend and nearly the entire school was taking the trip to get out of the stuffy castle and explore the town. The air was chill, but at least no snow had fallen, making the trip easier. Still, things weren’t as ideal as Draco had apparently planned, because he was growling up a storm and not much else for his first date with Harry.
“Potter, you look like a wanker!”
Harry didn’t bother looking behind him, recognizing his own dormmates yelling from afar. Ron was pissed. Jealous, pissed, and hadn’t stopped giving Harry shit since he had seen him with Draco over a week ago. Draco hadn’t been around for most of it, but he was here for this and Harry wasn’t really sure how things were going to go.
Draco was different. Still haughty and privileged, with a nasty mouth on him. But now with a violent streak that Harry was worried was going to get the blond in trouble. Draco hadn’t done anything to anyone yet, but he was very sensitive about how Harry was treated. He had even had words with Remus once just that week about the werewolf alpha being too rough. Harry didn’t think Remus was too rough—Remus really didn’t have any other setting but rough. Draco getting up in Remus’s face had been definitely a show.
Seamus shouted something that had Draco bristling. Glancing to the side, Harry wiggled his fingers, brushing them against the back of Draco’s hand inconspicuously. Draco snarled and quickly grabbed his hand, wrapping their fingers together possessively. Harry fought back a blush. God, even now, Draco just made him fucking jelly.
“Cheer up, wolfie. We’re almost there and then you can show me that thing you keep talking about.” Harry wagged his eyebrows suggestively.
“I swear to god, mutt, it is not my fucking dick,” Draco said warningly. “It’s a present. A classy, sweet, romantic gesture. Stop perving out on everything.”
Grinning widely, Harry shook his head. “Nope. My way is much more fun.”
Ron would not be ignored. “Hey, if you like Slytherins so much, why don’t you go marry one!”
Draco’s growl resumed, Harry ducking his head only to blush brightly. “Sort of kind of did…” Harry mumbled under his breath.
“If your new best friend will let you, Potter! You better watch your ass with the way he looks at you!”
It was Draco’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “What?”
“It’s okay, Seamus. Potter totally loves to talk to snakes. Bet he whispers to Malfoy’s every fucking night, right?”
“Are they trying to make fun of us for being gay, when they don’t even know we’re actually gay?” Draco asked Harry lowly, a small smirk twisting his lips.
“Err… I think so.” Harry glanced back over his shoulder, seeking out Hermione’s face. She looked miserable, glaring at Ron while huffing loudly as the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw boy’s continued to shout insults. When she caught Harry’s eye, she quickly mouthed ‘I didn’t tell.’ Harry wasn’t actually worried if she had or not. He wasn’t sure what kind of shit he’d get for being gay, but it probably wouldn’t be much worse than all the shit he got for being him in general. He was more worried about Draco being found out for liking him.
“You guys going to get a kissing booth today? I hear there are still some openings!”
Harry yelped when Draco suddenly stopped short and whirled. He tried to pull his blond mate away, but Draco was standing fast, glaring superiorly at the group of boys following them.
“Weasley, if you paid a fucking iota of the amount of attention you’re throwing at me and Potter, you could have gotten your girlfriend a booth at that silly restaurant today like a proper boyfriend.”
“Fuck you, ferret face! No one asked you to start shoving your pointy nose into my house’s business. Stick to your fucking snakes, and stay away from us Gryffindors!”
Harry just sighed, patting his bangs down while Draco stomped towards the red faced Ron.
“I’m allowed to talk to who I want, when I want, and you get no fucking say, you spotty faced, rodent teethed Weasel!”
“Like fuck you do! You’ve got a whole fucking school full of kids you can be friends with—Stay the fuck away from Harry!”
“Or what? He can’t fucking stand you, Weasley! Maybe if you let up for five fucking seconds and just let him be himself, he wouldn’t have dropped you like the fucking pathetic peasant you are! You’re a judgemental asshole. No wonder he doesn’t want to hang out with you anymore!”
Spluttering, Ron reared his arm back in preparation to punch the blond. Draco quickly caught it, growling loud enough that Harry could hear it from his spot up ahead.
“You’re an arrogant, pompous jackass that’s going to get him killed, Malfoy. He might have fallen for your cool shit, but I haven’t,” Ron gritted through his teeth. “I’m fucking watching you. If you hurt him, or your father gets ahold of him because of you, I’ll hex the fucking skin from your flesh!”
Draco didn’t say a word, his eyes burning twin silver fires that had Ron immediately stilling.
Holy fuck, Draco was hot when he was angry. Trying to stop the very loud gasps from escaping his mouth, Harry ran his hand over his face, biting his palm to help ground him. It wasn’t helping, and he knew he was getting hard, and was so grateful for the long leather trenchcoat Draco had bought him. Forcing his voice to work, Harry called out. “Malfoy, if you get caught fighting, they’ll make us go back.”
Silver eyes narrowing over his shoulder, Draco gave a quick nod when he saw Harry’s face. Draco was the one all excited about this whole date thing. Harry could care less if they hung out in some stuffy restaurant or he got presents. He was more than happy to spend time with his wolfie wherever. Preferably where no one else was around to ruin things and they could fuck as much as they wanted. Harry really wanted to do that last part right now.
“What, are you scared, ferret!” Ron taunted when Draco abruptly let his arm go and started walking back to Harry. “You gonna let your boyfriend tell you what to do!”
Harry winced, seeing Draco’s eyes flash at the words. But Draco didn’t stop. He kept his pace even as he stalked forward, crossing the distance. Harry nearly breathed a sigh of relief, only to take a hesitant step back when he caught a familiar, dangerous look on Draco’s face. “W-Wolfie?”
“Sorry about this, mutt.” Draco grabbed Harry by the arm, pulling him hard against his body. “But I can’t fucking listen to another gay joke when I’m not even allowed to kiss you.”
“Draco, just—mmph!” Effectively cut off, Harry just stared wide-eyed as Draco crushed their lips together. Harry wasn’t sure what his dormmates thought of him being kissed by the Slytherin prince, and he was quickly unable to care, Draco’s tongue hot and demanding as it pushed its way between his lips, the blond holding him possessively by the back of the neck to keep him from escaping. Moaning, Harry melted into the rough touch, his hands rising up to grip Draco’s long wool jacket and pull him closer. This time when Draco growled, it was all hot sex and Harry whimpered in response, pushing forward, meeting each thrust of tongue eagerly as he tried to climb into Draco’s coat.
Draco pulled away as quickly as he started, panting heavily as he stared down into Harry’s hazy eyes. “Come on, we still have that gift to get you.” He took Harry by the hand and began marching him at a fast pace to the town. Harry did his best to keep up while sporting an aching erection, daring a furtive glance behind at his dormmates. It wasn’t good. Slack jaws were just turning to mocking jeers by the time Draco hauled him around a corner.
Draco led Harry through a maze of back alleys behind buildings while Harry’s mind whirled. “Wolfie… Shit, what are your parents going to say?” Draco’s parents were crazy and neck deep in Voldemort’s pocket. It was the main reason Harry had been keeping his distance even though he’d been dating Draco for months now.
Draco spared him a side glance, kicking a plastic soda bottle out of the way before walking Harry around a dumpster. “Who the fuck cares. You’re my mate, Potter. You’re my crazy, deranged, wild mate and nothing else fucking matters besides that.”
Harry gnawed on his bottom lip, worry twisting in his stomach. “But what if they hurt you? What if… what if they try to use you to get to me?”
Draco stopped walking, Harry nearly stumbling into him. Then Draco was on him, arms around him tight, face tucked into the crook of Harry’s neck. “Listen to me carefully, mutt. They made their choice a long time ago. I made mine the second I agreed to be your mate and join your pack. This is my life, not theirs, and I decide what I want. Got it?”
Warmth flooding through his veins, Harry nodded. He slid his hands between the flaps of Draco’s coat, teasing over the boy’s hips. “You want me?”
Draco snorted, his breath ruffling Harry’s messy locks. “You’re such a slut. I tell you that I’m fully prepared for my parents to disown me because I love you that much, and all you can think about is sex.”
“It was hot, wolfie, watching you fight for me.” Harry licked his lips, looking up at the boy through his lashes. “If you had actually punched someone… Fuck, I don’t know if I could have kept my pants on.”
Growling, Draco wrapped an arm tighter around Harry’s waist, crushing their hips together, Harry’s erection finding a mirroring hardness. “That’s a feat on its own for you, mutt. I was hoping some of those extra belts would slow you down.”
“Wizard,” Harry reminded breathlessly, tilting his head so Draco would kiss down his neck. The blond obliged, his mouth hot and consuming as he kissed and then nipped soft gasps from Harry. Moaning, Harry hooked one of his legs around Draco’s, rubbing up against the boy with slow, eager movements. “Fuck me, Draco. Right here. Right now. You’re so hot when you’re threatening to beat the fuck out of someone. I want you so bad.”
Groaning, Draco pulled his lips away, glaring down at the brunette. “Potter, I’ve been waiting weeks to pick up this damn gift for you. They’re going to toss it out a window if they have to wait another day. And I’d prefer to be able to pay for it while my credit is still good. Who the fuck knows once my parents get the news that we’re dating?”
“Wolfie…” Harry whined, surging forward to run his tongue over Draco’s lips in tantalizing movements. “Stop buying me things. Just touch me. Fuck me, and be hard about it. I’m aching so bad, and you’re the only one that can fill me the way I need right now.”
Draco exhaled noisily, pressing kisses to Harry’s cheek and up to his ear. “God, you smell amazing. You’re ready to just spread your legs right now in some back alley over me making an ass of myself with the Weasel. You are too fucking easy, mutt.”
That sounded as damn near a yes as could be to Harry’s ear, and he quickly wrenched at Draco’s belt while rocking their hips together again. Only to have Draco push him back with a growl.
“No, Potter. I still have to pick up that gift. And we have reservations.”
“Wolfie…” Harry gave his best puppy dog eyes, which were completely wasted on Draco. “Damn it—You can’t be all hot and aggressive in front of me, and then leave me hanging.”
Eyes burning a fiery promise, Draco pulled Harry back against his chest. “It’ll only take ten minutes to get the very nice present I had custom made for you, Potter. That’s it.” His mouth hovering an inch from Harry’s, he added softly. “After that, if you want me to fuck you in some trashy alley where anyone can walk by and see, I won’t say no.”
Moaning at the very idea, Harry melted forward into Draco’s strong body. “God, please. I want you so bad. Need you—Tell me you can see. Tell me you can feel how much I’m yours.”
Draco released a small groan, his lips brushing softly against Harry’s. “I know, Harry. I can feel it. Ever since I bit you, I never wonder. No matter how many times you’re with the werewolf, I still know you’re mine. Now stop humping my leg, mutt. The sooner I leave, the sooner I’ll be back.”
Wetting his lips, Harry shakily untangled himself from Draco’s form. “Ten minutes?”
“Ten minutes.” Eyes trailing over Harry for a frozen eternity, Draco reached forward, fingers slowly unclasping the brunette’s belt. “Get ready for me. I want you lubed and stretched by the time I come back.”
“Oh fuck, Draco.” Eyes slipping around the deserted alleyway, Harry gave a small nod. He’d never had sex out in public. The closest had been fucking in a bathroom with a very upset young man waiting on the other side of the door until the boy had gave up and found a less occupied toilet. Watching Draco slowly walk away, the blond eventually disappearing around the corner, the first thing Harry did was cast a silencing spell. Then, knowing no one could hear him, he let out a loud moan that sounded half like a howl.
God, he was so horny. He had never expected to react that way to Draco fighting with Ron. Hell, if Draco had drawn blood… Harry closed his eyes, another loud moan escaping him. Fuck. Just fuck. It was hard enough hiding his nature in general from his classmates. If he started getting off on seeing Draco being a prat, Harry just didn’t know how long he’d be able to keep his secret.
He pushed his coat off his shoulders, letting it fall to the ground carelessly. Then he knelt on it, taking in the tall dumpster and wooden crates that obscured him from the view of either side of the alley. God, he was really going to do this. Wolfie said stretched and lubed, and Harry was going to listen like he was supposed to. Holding his breath, he unzipped his fly, pushing his pants down his hips. He cast a warming spell soon after when he realized just how cold the winter air was.
Leaning forward onto his hands, he reached back, pushing his lube coated fingers against the edge of his hole. He knew the silencing spell would keep anyone from hearing, but he still bit his lip, still struggled to hold his cries in as he began working two fingers into his tightness. God, it was good. Wrong, and exposed, with him just waiting for Draco to find him and see him being bad on the ground like this. God.
He was aching, his scent so strong even to him, surrounding him in a cloud of his own need. Ten minutes. Ten minutes and Draco would be inside him, his hard cock stretching him wide, taking him, owning him, and making him all better. Needed it. He needed it so bad. Whimpering, Harry plunged his fingers in deeper, letting out a gasp as his flesh pinched uncomfortably. He was always too rough with himself. Went too fast, unable to stop the madness inside pleading to be full.
Groaning, he buried his head into his resting arm while he began to drive into himself roughly, rocking his hips into every thrust. He was already close. He knew it wasn’t the satisfying orgasm—no, those he only got when he was stretched beyond full, someone grunting in his ear while they took him hard, held him down, and close, and so good. He pushed his pants further down his thighs, hoping to avoid getting cum all over them. How long had it been? He needed to get a watch. Something very waterproof considering how wet he was always getting.
He didn’t hear them at first, his focus completely on his now three fingers working in and out of his hole, gliding, stretching, slamming and withdrawing. It wasn’t until fur was brushing against his face, a hot, wet tongue licking over his fingers that he realized he wasn’t alone anymore.
He quickly pulled his fingers free, gasping in shock. “Oh hell…” he trailed off, blinking up into a pair of warm brown eyes. “Err… hey boy. Please tell me you’re not connected to a leash and owner right now…”
The german shepherd didn’t answer beyond a low whine, his tongue whipping out to lick Harry’s face. Harry didn’t see a collar, didn’t see any other person as he looked around. He did see that the german shepherd wasn’t alone, a golden retriever sniffing the air as it made its way over. With a gasp, Harry, noticed the final one, the one that had licked his hand, a large mutt that looked reminiscent of a husky. Staring at these three very large, very sweet looking dogs as they sniffed his skin and licked at him enthusiastically, a hot shudder moved through Harry. Was this the present Draco had been talking about?
Casting his glance around again, just to be on the safe side, Harry leaned closer to the german shepherd licking his face, parting his lips and moaning as that tongue slipped into his mouth. He pushed his pants even further down his legs, pulling out of them quickly as a tongue began to slick over his crack, a wet nose pressing between his cheeks.
“Oh fuck, I love my mate so much. So very, very much.” Draco always teased him, always said he’d run off with the first pack of wild dogs Harry found. The blond knew how hot it got him, talking nasty shit like that. But it was more than just talk, because Harry had a thing for dogs. He was a bitch dog, and he couldn’t help but be attracted to the strong four legged bodies and big, knotted cocks that canines had. The only thing he was starting to realize that wasn’t ideal was that Padfoot and Wolfie were just so much bigger—In size as animals, and in cock. But Harry wasn’t going to complain. He’d been dreaming of something like this, and he was more than happy to take what was given.
“Come on,” Harry whimpered, pushing his hips back, trying to get the husky behind him to mount him. He had a tormented, whimpering fear that maybe real dogs just didn’t react to him the way animagus canines did, that they wouldn’t respond to his scent the way he needed them to. Then he noticed the swollen, red tipped shafts between the two dogs legs in front of him, and Harry moaned in relief. “Come on, boys. God, someone… someone put it in me before I fucking lose my mind.”
Harry didn’t know if there was some sort of command for this, having never owned a dog. He was willing to start whistling, or clapping, or just doing anything as his face was again licked to the point of suffocation by the two in front of him, and the husky continued to only torment him with licks as well. Whimpering, he bent forward, raising his ass up, pleading softly. Hot breath washed over his hole, a large muzzle pushing into him harder, licking him, smelling him, and making him squirm.
Realizing he was going to have to get things started, Harry reached forward, running his fingers over the soft, fluffy belly of the golden retriever and rubbing his palm against the hard length swaying there. He groaned as cum splattered onto his arm from the simple touch, the beast huffing and trying to hump his hand from that alone. Fuck, okay, so now to get that behind him. He carefully tugged as he began to jerk the dog off, urging him closer, getting him until he was humping his shoulder. Harry was ready to turn on his knees at this point when the gold colored dog suddenly shifted, boxing his head in, that slick, red tipped cock pushing against his jaw in hard humps.
“Oh fuck… okay… Okay, boy…” Exhaling noisily, Harry wrapped his fingers around the hot flesh, guiding it to his lips. It wasn’t like wolfie, the retriever too eager and completely uncontrolled as it began to fuck his mouth wildly. Harry tried not to choke, his mouth assaulted by hard cock and spurts of cum as claws scratched over his shoulders. The fur was thick, itchy and tickling, and as he coughed, it grew wet against his face from the saliva and cum dripping down his swollen lips.
It was rough, fast, and getting him unbelievably hot. It also seemed to be what the dog behind him needed, because suddenly a new weight pushed down on him, the husky’s forelegs hooking around his waist as it pushed its cock between Harry’s thighs and began to hump. Moaning around the cock slicking so much wet into his mouth, Harry wiggled his hips, trying to get the husky’s cock up into his hole. It wasn’t working, the beast seemingly content to fuck the back of his balls, and Harry groaned in frustration. Fighting with the weight of the two dogs, and the soreness already building in his legs, he reached back, fingers fumbling until he found the dripping, hot dick he was aching to have inside him. It took some positioning, the dog’s hips bucking so forcefully, so wildly, but Harry eventually got him high enough and wedged between his cheeks.
The husky took it from there, Harry gaping nearly silent when those frantic humps began to push that thick cock inside of him. When the swollen head slipped into the first ring of muscles and spurted wet into his hole, Harry came hard, choking on the dick now streaming wave after wave of thick, hot seed into his mouth. Dizzy and light headed, Harry spread his knees wider, helping to provide the needed resistance to drive the husky into his stretched hole. God, he was on his knees in some alley, being fucked by dogs. Two… No, three. Whining, Harry reached his hand out, rubbing his palm up the german shepherd’s smooth belly until he found the hard cock waiting for him. He wrapped his fingers loosely around it, letting it spasm and jerk seed in his hand. Yeah, three.
Harry gave a low moan as the husky began working its swollen knot up against his hole. God, that was big. Very big. Whimpering, he pushed back, struggling to breathe around all the wet and dick in his mouth while the retriever continued to hump his face. God, he needed it. Needed it so bad. If that big knot would just get a little further—Fuck, it would be so good. So perfect. Heaving for air, sweat dripping down his body, Harry pushed back into each hard, bucking thrust, trying to get that big knot in deep.
Just a little more… Oh, fuck… almost… almost…
“For fuck sake, mutt! Are you shitting me? Ten minutes. Ten bloody minutes and you’re…” Harry just whined as cold air hit his face, the golden retriever pulled away, its long dick emptying his mouth and leaving him to stare up at Draco wantonly.
“You couldn’t wait ten fucking minutes?”
Harry groaned, pushing back into the relentless thrusts of the husky still fucking his hole hard. “Wolfie… god… need it…”
Draco gave a long suffering sigh, running a hand through his loose white-blond locks. He knew Harry was a slut, but seriously? Their first date? This was supposed to be romantic and loving, and not full of dog dick. Three dog dicks, at that. He looked around, brows furrowed at the wagging, dripping, four-legged creatures. “Where the hell did these guys come from? Did you… Did you seriously find a goddamn street pack the second you left my sight?”
Harry just gave a gasping cry, his legs spreading wider, head tilting back as the husky’s knot jolted further into his passage. “Yes… god yes… so big… so wet, and big… deeper… need it deeper…”
Draco exhaled noisily, his hand reaching out to run along the underside of Harry’s chin and the fluid clinging there. “Damn it, mutt. Why the fuck do you have to look so good when you’re doing that?”
Harry whined, pressing his head into Draco’s hand while licking his tongue out. “Wolfie… thought this was… my present.”
Yeah, Draco was in love with a total slut. Looking around the alley critically, he cast a notice-me-not spell. He gave a final caress to Harry’s face, then stepped back, letting the german shepherd take his place.
Harry gave a great moan when his sight was blocked again, hot cum splashing on his cheek and forehead as the black dog jumped up, its claws sliding over his back as it began to hump his face. He gasped into the rough thrusts, his mouth wide until the cock was finally, mostly fucking into him and not on. The husky gave a loud huff, and Harry cried out as the big knot slid past the last of his muscles and slammed into him deep. Harry clenched on that thick, meaty knot, his hole tightening, holding it in, keeping it inside as it began to flood him with so much heavy seed.
He moaned around the cock still taking him hard, the slick head popping in and out of his lips, so desperate to get off as it spurted messily that it didn’t care where it hit. The husky’s frantic humps changed in intensity, and Harry was agonizingly aware of each hot spurt of thick cum inside him as the beast ground forward into his body, filling him again and again, claiming him as one of theirs now.
“That’s it, mutt, that’s how you like it.” Kneeling down beside Harry’s whimpering form, Draco slipped something out of his pocket. All Harry could feel was the weight of leather as a choker was wrapped around his neck, cool where metal hit his flesh and clinked. Draco tugged lightly at the dog collar, a wry smile twisting his lips. Harry was definitely his mutt now. He had the dog tag with ‘Mutt’ engraved and everything. Sure the tag was pure gold, but he was pretty sure that detail would be lost on his mate. “Open wider, slut. Make sure you swallow all that cum.”
He ran his hands down Harry’s stomach while the boy groaned around the shepherd’s thrusting cock. The brunette was already dripping in his own seed, Draco rubbing it into his skin while moving lower and wrapping his fingers around Harry’s throbbing cock. He raised a brow when his hand was greeted with something slippery and wet, the golden retriever licking up Harry’s cock again and again. Hell, his mutt really knew how to get just about anything to fuck him.
It was a good hour before Harry was willing to stop, finally sated and shaking as he gave his three new friends quick pats and sent them on their way. Draco just shook his head, sitting on a crate while Harry lounged dripping wet on his jacket in the alley.
“Crap, we didn’t miss the reservations, did we?” Harry asked weakly, his eyes full of apology.
Draco sighed. “No, mutt. We still have a good forty-five minutes.”
Harry nodded, looking at Draco thoughtfully from his upside down angle. “Wolfie, it was…”
“I know, beautiful.” Draco got up, sinking to his knees next to the brunette. “You were amazing. You took them all in, and loved every minute of it. I’m sure you’re going to be the talk of the canine circuit.”
Harry couldn’t tell if Draco was exasperated, his boyfriend usually sporting a haughty expression. But when he met the blond’s eyes, he found only love as Draco pulled his shaking body into his lap. “I really thought it was the present you kept mentioning,” Harry whispered, his lips pressing to Draco’s throat. “Custom made and everything.”
“Yes, well, I could see how you’d get confused like that. Maybe it should have been.” Draco hooked his finger around the stylish dog collar hanging around Harry neck, pulling the boy up into a kiss. The brunette melted into him, whimpering and sighing as Draco kissed him deep and languidly.
“God, wolfie, tell me you liked watching me.” Harry lapped over Draco’s lips. “Tell me you’re not angry that I like dick so much.”
“One more, beautiful,” Draco replied instead, wrapping his arms tight around Harry’s waist and pulling him up his lap.
“Wolfie…”
“No complaints, slut. Get my zipper.” He smirked when Harry made a throaty moan at the order.
“God, okay.” Fingers shaking, Harry reached between the press of their bodies, finding the fly to the dark jeans Draco was wearing. That Draco was going to fuck him outside, not just watch him get fucked, was just too amazing to comprehend, and Harry was getting hot just thinking about it. When he pulled out Draco’s dick, he could only gape in amazement.
“Wolfie… holy fuck.”
“You like it?” Draco smiled against Harry’s sticky, flushed cheek. “I’ve been practicing my transformation. It took a lot of training but I thought it might be appreciated.”
Harry just nodded dumbly, his eyes growing wider as he slid his fingers down Draco’s long length and caressed over the knot now swollen at the base. “Oh fuck.” Cum sprinkled out the moment his fingers touched the knot, and he knew it was very much the best fucking present Draco could ever give him.
“I thought you said my gift was not your dick?” Harry teased.
“You want to ride it?” Draco asked, already knowing the answer. He could hand Harry a broom and he’d want to ride it. He pulled Harry’s knees up, wrapping them around his waist. He then lifted the boy easily, pushing the head of his cock against the brunette’s dripping hole.
“God, wolfie, yes,” Harry groaned, clinging to Draco’s shoulders and burying his face into the blond’s neck. He panted heavily, releasing weak cries as Draco carefully stretched his already tight hole with his thick cockhead. It was always intense when the blond took him this way, forcing him to feel every inch of his dick like it was the first time. And this time Draco had a lot more wet to slick him with, his cum spurting every time he pushed against Harry’s tightness, working into his hole over and over while Harry sobbed from the agonizing feel of so much thick cock, and anticipation of even thicker knot.
Fuck, they were doing it in some little alleyway, Harry naked except for his bracelets and new collar just after being gangbanged by dogs. This was definitely Harry’s idea of the best first date ever. He really did have the most amazing mate a boy could ask for.
“God… oh god… get deeper,” Harry pleaded, grasping at Draco’s shoulders frantically, his mouth nipping and licking everywhere he could reach. Draco was going so slow, teasing the head of his cock into him, just to pull back out, forcing his entrance to open and stretch, and then close while clinging desperate to the hot, slick flesh. Harry was pretty sure he was going to lose his mind if Draco didn’t just fuck him properly.
“No complaints,” Draco reminded with a growl, pulling Harry hard by the hair so he could bite roughly into the flesh of his throat. “You’re going to sit here and take it how I want to give it, Potter.”
Moaning, Harry could only smile lazily, his head lolling back. Draco continued to taunt him, his cock jolting in and out of his entrance, getting faster and even less coordinated with each thrust. Harry clenched hard each time, hoping to convince Draco to fuck him deeper. Then suddenly Draco was pushing into him without warning, holding him hard by the hips as he forced his way into Harry’s tight flesh.
“Draco—fuck. Oh fuck!”
“Shh, mutt… Fuck, you’re tight.” Grunting, Draco pushed Harry back enough so he could thrust into the brunette with hard, slamming jolts. Clutching weakly to Draco’s neck and shoulders, Harry sobbed each time Draco drove into him, grinding that thick knot up against the edges of his hole every time. “That’s it… god… fuck, Harry. Fuck.”
The world tilted and Harry ended up flat on his back, his legs wrapped tight around Draco’s waist as the blond fucked him into the pavement. “Please… please, Draco…” He bit out, only to cry as Draco slammed into him again.
“You want it, mutt? You want my knot?” Draco asked hoarsely, Harry whimpering and nodding frantically in reply. “Earn it, Harry. Make me give it to you.”
“Oh god.” The world spinning, Harry closed his eyes for a moment. Draco’s breath was so hot against his ear, the feel of his thick cock gliding wet and rough in and out of his hole driving him crazy. He wanted it so bad. Wanted to feel that big knot driving into him, stretching him wide, making him Draco’s.
Wetting his lips, Harry forced his shaking arm to move. He ran his hand down Draco’s back, finding the hem of his shirt and pulling it up, then going lower until he was cupping Draco’s ass above his loose jeans. The blond gave a warning growl in his ear when Harry brushed fingers deep into Draco’s crack. Undeterred, Harry sought out the boy’s pucker, pushing two fingers against his hot hole. Groaning, Draco ground forward, wedging his knot harder into Harry’s clenching flesh while Harry began to work his fingers into his entrance.
“Fuck, Draco… fuck, don’t stop,” Harry gasped out, bucking his hips when Draco continued to push forward while stilling his rocking movements. Teeth nipping sharply at Harry’s skin, Draco gave him another warning growl Harry also ignored, the brunette pushing his fingers deeper into the blond.
“Harry—hell,” Draco moaned as Harry’s fingers scissored open wide, stretching him. Draco jolted forward from the feel, burying his knot into the tight muscles of Harry’s opening, the brunette choking back a desperate cry. “Fuck, Harry… I’m going to…”
Grinning wickedly, Harry found Draco’s prostate, pressing the spongy flesh firmly. Howling, Draco surged forward, slamming into Harry’s spasming body, his knot forcing past the brunette’s entrance as he began to spurt load after load of hot seed into the moaning boy. Holding Harry’s hips brutally tight, Draco ground into him hard, not letting up as he fucked him with shallow, jerking thrusts that Harry sobbed and cried through.
Clenching that thick, perfect flesh buried deep inside him, Harry arched under Draco, clutching to the boy while he rode out his long orgasm. Draco continued to fill him, his bucking hips slowing, his transformed cock seemingly just as full of cum as the wolf’s version.
“God, wolfie… fuck, it’s so good.” Harry pushed Draco’s long silky hair back, seeking out the boy’s face. Silver eyes hazy and full of more than a little wonder, Draco stared down at him with swollen lips. “You’re so big inside me. Perfect… No one else is ever going to be like this in me.” Harry wet his lips, raising his head up to kiss Draco softly. “You’re my mate, and this is how you fuck me, Draco.”
“Damn it, Harry.” Groaning, Draco crushed his lips to the brunette’s, forcing him down by his weight and need to have Harry be his. He was, he knew he was, but every time Draco touched the boy it was like his body just needed to reconfirm it again and again. Opening to him, Harry let Draco plunder his mouth, tasting and owning every inch he touched. As they kissed, Draco continued to grind into the boy’s passage, making sure every drop of cum he had was inside his mate. Marking him. Claiming him. It didn’t matter who or what fucked Harry, just as long as Harry always came back to him.
As long as Harry looked at Draco with those glowing, adoring eyes, deranged smirk, and the slightest of blushes on his cheeks, Draco would always be happy.
The restaurant Draco had made reservations for wasn’t as bad as Harry had feared. Being a boy, Harry really didn’t understand the idea of romance. Well, being a boy that was also a pack bitch. Draco seemed to have a lot of understanding of romance, but Harry just didn’t know how to deal with it. He did like good tasting food though. And the music wasn’t bad, some sort of soft rock from the live band playing. The place was more causal and elegant than pink hearts and vomit. And having Draco sitting across from him in the dim lighting, looking hunky with a thoroughly shagged look on his face, his hair just slightly mussed and clothes rumpled, was definitely reason enough to be there.
They talked about quidditch for a while, Harry arguing vehemently that Draco was completely wrong about the up and coming Krum. Then it turned to some shit about Draco’s terrible taste in music that Harry apparently matched with some new indie bands that Draco was certain were hiding evil messages in the lyrics. Then Harry tried to get into his mate’s lap, which Draco was very stern about, even though he did give him a deep kiss for his attempts.
“Do not get lost,” Draco repeated when Harry just gave him an innocent grin and left to go to the bathroom. He was pretty sure the boy had been fucked out for the day. That said, Draco couldn’t trust that if Harry ran into a dog on the way from point A to point B that he wouldn’t end up on all fours again. Hell, there was no way in fuck they could live in the suburbs or some shit. Every dog in the neighborhood would be barking at their door, day and night for his slutty mate.
Musing to himself, Draco let his eyes roam the restaurant. The lighting was low, the other patrons illuminated by soft candlelight. He didn’t recognize anyone from the castle but it did get him thinking about just how the fuck he was going to deal with his parents. It was an eventuality he had been prepared to face, he just really didn’t know what to expect.
Definitely a confrontation of some sort. His father had people everywhere, and no doubt in Hogsmeade as well. The news would get to Lucius’s ear. Then it would lead to some sort of ‘what the fuck are you up to, son?’ moment. And then, well, who really knew. Draco couldn’t align himself with his parents, not as long as they chose Voldemort and Voldemort insisted on killing Harry. So depending on how his father decided to deal with a traitor son would likely decide Draco’s next actions.
He had started squirrelling some money away. Nothing massive, just enough to ensure he’d be good till the end of his schooling. There was always the possibility that his father would blacklist him from finding work in the wizarding world. Fuck, he might become just as ostracized as his werewolf alpha. It demanded some planning he hadn’t really given. Allies would be essential in the upcoming years if he had to go up against his father’s influence. Aligning with Harry automatically made Draco a target for every Death Eater, and gained him the most idiotic and reckless of allies. Maybe it was time to start identifying who those allies were and see how they could help his future.
He was broken from his thoughts when Harry suddenly came bounding back, the boy grinning ear to ear. It took Draco a moment, very much fixated on just how sexy Harry looked when he smiled at him. But then he noticed his mate had his fingers wrapped around the collar Draco had gotten for him, and he couldn’t help but smile smugly back. Of course Harry would like it. He could bitch all he liked about not wanting gifts, but Draco knew what the boy liked.
“It’s gorgeous.” Harry ducked down so he could kiss Draco’s cheek. When he went to pull away, Draco grabbed him by the collar, holding him still and kissing him properly. Harry gave a throaty moan, whimpering from the hard touch, and then whining when Draco gently shoved him away. “Damn it—you know what that does to me,” he grumbled, sitting in his chair heavily while staring with flushed cheeks at Draco.
Draco did know, able to smell just how hard Harry was getting from one fine kiss. “You look good in it. Black leather and white gold. My wild mutt.”
Harry beamed again, his lips curling on the demented side as his eyes travelled over Draco hungrily. “If I got you a collar, you think you’d wear it?”
Draco shrugged. “Maybe if I was able to pick it out. No offense, but you have shit taste.”
Harry was not offended, knowing damn well. But then again, he had great taste when it came to boys, having fallen for Draco damn crazy hard, so he couldn’t be that bad off. “What if I tried to get you in leather once in a while?”
“That might take some convincing.” Draco pushed the little dessert menu across the table, raising his brow expectantly.
Harry was genuinely enjoying himself, and not in a rush to leave. He pointed to something gooey and chocolate, and flashed Draco a wicked grin. “I think I might enjoy convincing you. Drugged you last time, and fuck, that was just the hottest thing ever.”
Glaring at him warningly, Draco called the waiter over, placing his order and trying to ignore how the young man kept checking his boyfriend out. Harry’s charms were not restricted to canines, especially when under his thick messy hair hid his very famous scar. Draco wasn’t too worried, seeing as Harry’s foot was currently trying to wrap around his leg.
“Come to the bathroom with me. They have really amazing ceilings in there you should see,” Harry whispered enticingly.
Fighting back a smirk, Draco just sipped his drink. “I thought you were still trying to convince me into leather?”
“Ah, in leather, out of clothes; it’s all good.”
It was, but Draco wasn’t about to fuck the boy in the very expensive restaurant’s bathroom.
Well, not until he dealt with the check first.
Keeping his expression blank, Draco sat back, listening as Harry started on about soccer and how he wanted to teach him to play. It was a damn fine night, and Draco loved to hear Harry laugh.
A little place to share your comments and questions on the fanfic, Sleeping Dogs. Liked it, hated it, interested in seeing a sequel or something similar? Let me know below. I love the feedback.
“Excuse me, sleeping beauty. We would like a word.”
Draco stirred from his slumber, blinking wearingly into the darkness of his curtained bed. Damn, he had been having the hottest dream involving leather and some weird panther… That he really didn’t want to decipher too much, now that he thought about it…
“Is he even there?”
“He’s there. Probably just asleep.”
Draco growled, recognizing Crabbe and Goyle’s voices whispering behind his bed curtains. He debated getting up and beating the shit out of the two, or falling back to sleep. Weird or not, it had been a good dream… certainly more interesting than whatever it was those two idiots wanted…
“For fuck sake, just charm the damn thing open!”
Eye’s shooting open, Draco jumped from his bed, pushing the curtains aside to grab his wand from the nightstand. It wasn’t there. His stomach plummeting, he turned slowly to the group of students staring him down menacingly.
Blaise Zabini was in front, face lit from below with a lumos. He was smiling chillingly, like a predator staring down his prey before the death blow.
Eyes narrowing, Draco crouched and pointed himself towards the door currently blocked by the seventh year Slytherin class, peppered with some large sixth years. Calculating quickly, Draco surged forward, slashing the gap between the two smallest students with his claws.
Bodies pressed in, getting behind him and turning him, an elbow to his face stunning him momentarily. Quickly Draco kneed Goyle in the crotch and whirled, punching the nearest face, and ducking and smashing into another’s stomach.
“Fucking stun him!” Draco ducked again, but fists hit his side. Catching sight of Blaise’s bastard face, he lunged and pushed him back into the wall with a crunch against the stone. A spell hit Draco in the middle of the back and he felt his spine tighten and refuse to move.
Snarling, he curled claws around Blaise’s throat and crushed until someone had the nerve to pull him away.
“Fucking Malfoy, just stay the fuck down.” Three stunners hit him at once, and Draco fell to the ground, body contorted painfully, ears ringing as he lost his ability to hear. He focused on his muscles, trying to get them to tense out of the spell while Blaise kicked him repeatedly.
There had been too many attackers in too small a space. Even with Draco’s unnatural strength and violent nature, there hadn’t been room to deal enough damage to effectively defend himself. The Slytherins had planned accordingly, knowing that being wandless wouldn’t cripple Draco and bringing enough bodies to take him out.
Hands pulled him upright and a hood was thrown over his head, and then the weight of a heavy cloak. He was dimly aware of arms lifting him up and the awkward lurch of being carried.
Of course the Slytherins weren’t stupid enough to do this business in the dorms and incriminate themselves. Blaise had brains, which only made him that more dangerous.
Still focusing on his muscles, Draco noticed when they began to loosen minutely. He wasn’t down yet. Still alive. Still proud. He could go to the grave if it was on his terms. He just hadn’t expected it to be this soon.
The cloak and hood were removed, and Draco glared, his eyes and ears working again but muscles still resisting control. He didn’t recognize the room, but he did the students. As if realizing their mistake, someone tied a blindfold over his eyes, pulling tight.
They stripped Draco while he counted faces in his head, memorizing everyone he would destroy once he was free. Hands roughly tore his night clothes off, going so far as to take his briefs. His arms were then wrenched above his head and clasped into heavy chains.
Draco wouldn’t plead. Let the fuckers think they had him. It was just his body; none of them had the power to take his will.
A faint whistling noise was his only warning before his head snapped back with a crack, a hand brutally connecting with his face.
“That’s for my fucking neck, Malfoy,” Blaise hissed in his ringing ear. Draco could only assume that Blaise was no longer smiling. Score one for him. He was prepared for the second punch to the face, but not for the next that hit his stomach and stole his breath, forcing him to gasp for air his lungs couldn’t take in. The shackles bit into his wrist painfully as he bent over, but the pain helped him focus on finding his air again.
His housemates were talking, trying to decide what exactly to do with him. Given some of the murderous suggestions, Draco realized he must have severely fucked up somewhere. Confusing, since he had not seen any signs of discontent in his housemates before that night.
Blaise’s voice broke through the rumble, far closer to Draco than the others. “I’m sure you’re wondering why we had to go through such measures just to get you alone, Draco.”
Actually, he wasn’t. Draco had realized that this chat with his housemates was inevitable. News had reached Hogwarts only a week ago of his father’s very public rebellion against Voldemort. He had just not expected the extreme vigor his supposed friends had for this meeting. Apparently they had seen it as personal. That he had not anticipated it, was a mistake that Draco was not positive he was going to survive.
Someone slapped him hard, his cheek stinging numbly. “Speak up, you fucking waste.”
Draco waited a moment out of sheer stubbornness, and then finally snapped a reply. “I assumed it had to do with you being too fucking weak to beat me in a fair fight, asshole.”
Blaise laughed harshly. “I know my limits. You’re the goddamn dueling champion, tied only with that shithead, Potter. And everyone knows just how dangerous your blood can get when given the chance. We’re not fools.”
Draco raised a brow, unseen beneath the cloth covering his eyes. Commenting on how fucking stupid the whole lot of them were was not going to help him at the moment. Draco would wait until free and armed to hex that lesson into them.
“You see, Malfoy, there have been rumors circulating. Rumors that have certain interested parties very concerned.”
Draco frowned, searching his memory for anything he may have heard whispered about him. Recently it had all been about Lucius and speculation if Draco was going to have a breakdown over it. “Could you try to be a little more specific? I can’t imagine how McGonagall’s new sock fetish concerns me.” Draco didn’t hide his anger from his voice. Blaise wouldn’t believe anything he said anyways.
Snickers ran through the room, dark cruel cackles. These weren’t children anymore. Draco should have been paying attention; he should have noticed. But he had been so busy worrying about his family and his own physical changes to notice how things had been going to shit around him.
“I think you know what I’m talking about, Malfoy. During a certain Potions class. A certain Gryffindor… You didn’t seem to have any problem talking at all then.”
Draco furrowed his brows, racking his brain to try and figure out what the fuck Blaise was ranting about. “What? When we started partner work? What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”
“Don’t fucking play with me!” Blaise yelled, wrapping an unyielding hand to Draco’s throat. He laughed cruelly as Draco reflexively gasped. “The whole class heard you talking with him as if you were best friends. Then the very next day the Ministry just happens to take out the reserve stores.”
Draco would have snorted if Blaise’s hand wasn’t clutching his throat so tight. “You think I’m relaying information? How fucking stupid do you think I am?”
“You tell me. What could have been so interesting that you spent a whole double period talking to Scarhead? You were laughing with him.”
Fingers threaded through Draco’s hair and he repressed a disgusted shudder. “Just because he won’t let you in his pants, Zabini, doesn’t mean you should freak the fuck out when he shows an interest in me,” Draco taunted sharply.
He realized he had struck a nerve when Blaise immediately pulled back and punched him in the jaw. The pain was worth the information. Blaise had been trying to get to Potter and clearly wasn’t succeeding.
“You’re a fucking imbecile, Zabini. If You-Know-Who finds out you’re feeding false information for your own gain, he’s going to kill you. The worst part is, you put every fucking person in this room in danger. Did you bother telling them the risk—”
“Shut up! I’m not the one spying for Dumbledore!” Blaise roared, smashing Draco across the face. “All of you out! Now!” He shouted, waiting for the footsteps to fade before returning to Draco.
“How long have you been giving him information? What have you been telling him?”
Draco hissed, quickly losing his temper at the ridiculous accusations. “Unlike you, I value my life. I don’t play spy—I’m not that fucking stupid! And just so we’re clear, my family isn’t in league with Dumbledore either.” Draco spat, blood dribbling from his mouth. “Let’s be serious, Zabini. If Voldemort really thought that I was leaking information, I would already be dead. He sure as hell wouldn’t send a two-bit weakling whore like you to get the information from me. You don’t even have the power to use Legilimency.”
“I don’t need magic, Malfoy.” Blaise’s hand grabbed his hair and pulled back painfully, tears stinging at the corner of Draco’s eyes. “There are other forms of power. All it takes is the right evidence in the right spot and the Dark Lord will kill you for me.”
Draco probably should have been terrified; Blaise wasn’t in the habit of making idle threats. Instead, he laughed, his voice promising pain.
“How about we stop this stupid shit and get to the point? You’ve always thought I was a threat to your position, but you never had the guts to do anything until my father left the protection of You-Know-Who. So you manipulated anyone that has something to lose by saying I’m putting their families at risk by informing on them. Because you want to take me out. It’s not going to work, Zabini. And once I’m free you’re going to regret that you even fucking tried.”
“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong, Draco,” Blaise said silkily, pressing lips to the blond’s bruised cheek. “You’re not going to get free. You’re going to hang in this room tonight. And then this room is going to disappear until next Friday, just like it always does. Unfortunately for you, by that time you’ll be dead from lack of food and water.”
Dread sliced through Draco, chilling more thoroughly than the cold castle air. Blaise was going to kill him. His housemates were going to stand by and let him starve to death, the bloody fucking cowards!
“It’s such a shame it had to be this way, Drake. You know I always had a thing for pretty blonds.”
Draco snarled, striking the moment Blaise got too close, sinking teeth into Blaise’s cheek. Howling, Blaise wrenched away, Draco spitting out a chunk of flesh with a frightening smile. “You ever hear of the Furour Ghosts, Zabini? I guarantee I’ll be coming back to torment you. Just a month and my soul will have enough power to haunt your fucking ass to the grave!”
Draco laughed menacingly at Blaise’s angry shout. The final hit to his gut and loud slam of the door did nothing to dull his dark laughter. They would all suffer by his hands, whether he was fucking alive or not.
“Fuck this is boring… Fucking kill Zabini… I’ll fucking kill all of them… Stupid Potter and his damn sense of humor. Just had to laugh, didn’t I? Fuck! I think I’ll gouge out Zabini’s eyes first… Maybe cripple him… Fuck. This is a shit boring way to die.”
As each minute ticked by, the stark realization that no one was coming for him had sunk in until it was clutching at Draco’s throat as strong as Blaise’s hand had. A wand to the head would have been easier. Instant death. Not this stupid waiting around shit. Not the helpless feeling of being stalked…
That, of course, was another problem. Draco did not know which room he was in, and more importantly, if it had windows, because the soft sound of fabric sliding over the floor was starting to freak him out. Could it be a ghost? A wayward student… Some sort of beast? What horrors did Hogwarts house in the darkest of corners?
There was a clatter and Draco jumped, his chains rattling as the noise of a glass container rolling came closer and closer until stopping at his bare feet.
“Hello?” He called, trying with all his might to see through the thick cloth over his eyes. “Is somebody—Shit!” Wind whooshed by him, clothing brushing his side. Draco strained in the darkness, seeking some sort of recognizable sound to calm his racing heart. Gods, let it be human…
Cloth rustled a mere foot away. Draco stepped back as much as the chains would allow. “Back off!” He prepared himself for a good kicking if the need arose. Action was always better than freezing to fear.
“This seems quite the predicament.” A voice commented from where the rustling cloth had been, the whispered words distorted by magic until completely unrecognizable. It was too low to be anything but male, and too indifferent to be Slytherin.
Breath caught in his throat, Draco automatically turned his head, the darkness still remaining with his blindfold. “Who’s there? Can you… let me go?”
A tingle trilled down his spine as hot breath spilled over his neck, reminding Draco very quickly that he was naked, chained up, and absolutely vulnerable to this total stranger. It was not all together unpleasant. Draco pursed his lips, annoyed by his body’s reaction. His heart was already trying to beat out of his chest; he could not deal with embarrassment as well.
“I don’t know. I guess that depends on you.”
Draco had had enough of games that night. “What the fuck? Who are you, you bloody bastard!” He jolted as a hand pressed lightly to his face, rearranging the blindfold gently and setting his nerves jumping with something neither fully anger or fear.
“For someone tied up, you’ve got quite the nasty attitude towards the only person around to help you, Malfoy.”
Hissing, Draco swallowed his anger and pride. This person was no Hufflepuff, of that he was certain. But they did know who he was. That probably would not help, given Draco’s reputation. He would have to make an effort. “Sorry, it’s been a bad night. If you can’t tell from the bruises on parts of my body that I usually don’t show to the whole fucking world. Please let me go.”
Yes, he had said please. Desperate times called for desperate measures.
The person started moving, cloth sliding around Draco as the boy talked. “I could tell, actually. Actually, it’s really difficult to miss… I knew you were toned and near glowing pale but… you are surprisingly long, Malfoy.”
Blushing, Draco shivered as a prickling sensation began to slide over his flesh. Resisting the urge to squirm under the stare boring into him, Draco concentrated on the chains biting his wrists. He forced his breathing to slow and did his best to will his quickly growing erection away. This was so not cool.
Stilling again, the voice spoke to the right of Draco. “Answer me truthfully and I’ll see what I can do to get you out of here.”
Gods damn it! Draco took a deep, steadying breath and vowed that he’d curse the bloody asshole once he was free. “Sure. Ask away, mate,” he chirped with false sweetness.
He could almost sense the wry smile sent in response. Hell, he could sense the damn heat and magic coming from the bastard too, and it was fucking unnerving. Draco’s body was too responsive to his liking. Everything seemed to be setting it off, even the sound of the other’s breathing.
“Alright. Who do you serve?”
Draco froze, his anger catching in his throat. “Are you mother fucking kidding me? Were you watching the whole bloody time? I don’t serve anyone! Not Voldemort. Not Dumbledore. Not my father. Not anyone! I’m my own man, and that’s how its going to bloody stay until the day I die—Which apparently is pretty fucking soon. Fuck you!” He scowled at where he assumed the asshole that could have saved him from a beating was staring.
“I see… I’m afraid that makes things difficult,” the boy mused, breath changing direction as he circled slowly around Draco.
“Well too fucking bad. You’re not going to convince me otherwise,” Draco snarled. So much for being saved. It was just one more to add to his list of hauntings once he died.
“Hey—Watch it!” Draco gasped as hot, rough hands found their way to his back and began sliding down. He had to bite back the sound that was fighting to break loose when the hands stopped and slid to his front, thumbs caressing the taut flesh right below his stomach.
For some reason the disgust Draco had felt when Blaise had merely tried to kiss him was absent with this stranger. That alarmed him more than he wanted to dwell on. He shouldn’t be feeling like this. He usually had better control.
“I have no interest in changing your mind. I actually find it admirable that you don’t give in to the pressures of both sides and stick to your own conscience instead.”
“But?” Draco asked, breathing shallowly while he tried to figure out why he was no longer trying to kill, or get away from this person like he had wanted moments ago. Actually… He was pretty sure he was happy right where he was.
“But… It makes things difficult,” the boy murmured into Draco’s neck. “I had planned to leave you here if you picked Voldemort. That’s the sort of fucked up shit he would have done. If you had said Dumbledore, I would have released you immediately. You… you didn’t pick either.”
Hands began to slide up Draco’s torso, over his flat stomach and up to his chest. Palms found his nipples and rubbed, Draco biting his lip painfully to keep from crying out from the maddening sensation.
“You chose yourself, and now I have to consider what you would do. Tell me, Malfoy, would you let such an opportunity… slip?”
“Oh gods,” Draco moaned, the hands on his chest slowly sliding down, rough palms moving heatedly over him. Unconsciously he pressed back into the firm body behind him.
Draco knew exactly what he would have done if the situation had been reversed, and the mental image shook him. He should deny it… say something clever. But all he could think of was what could happen if he just stayed quiet and let those hands continue sliding over him.
“Oh fuck… Don’t think I won’t beat you,” Draco said shakily, his head falling forward.
“That’s what I thought,” the boy chuckled, a husky, delicious sound that left Draco trembling.
With a jolt, he tried to come back to his senses. “Stop… release me first.” He went to step away, but strong, toned arms wrapped in the sleeves of a school robe replaced the hands and pinned his back hard against the body behind him. It should have frightened Draco. The raw power he felt holding him close did a little. But mostly the tighter the arms held him, the faster his pulse raced and the more his body cried for attention.
“No. What fun would that be?” An arm loosened and fingers began to dance over Draco’s stomach. The simple movement was amplified by the rough fabric that moved with every breath against his skin. A chin settled on his shoulder; it didn’t have too far to go. The boy was only a little taller than him.
“Your name, then.” Draco turned his head, his strained breaths ruffling soft strands of hair brushing his cheek. It was longish… shaggy, maybe.
The face turned to Draco’s, lips pressing low on his jaw and biting lightly. “Does it matter?”
“N-No…” Draco whimpered, the scrape of teeth shooting fire through him. The boy was right. If anything, a face to go with the undeniable lust could actually make the whole thing very awkward. Especially if it was a familiar face. Still, Draco’s curiosity always was his downfall and right now he knew it would bother him till his last days. Who was it that could make his body ache like this? How the hell had he missed him all these bloody years in the same damn school?
Besides, Draco needed to know who to beat the shit out of.
“Will you tell me after?”
“Not if you plan on hexing me,” the boy whispered back. From his tone, Draco sensed he was expecting it. Without waiting for him to respond, the boy nudged the blond’s feet wide and slid a supporting leg between them. Dragging the hand that had been previously playing with the light wiry hair trailing beneath his navel, he traced down Draco’s length to stop at the head of his cock with a teasing touch. “I value my life, as well.”
Draco cried out from the touch, all angry retorts lost. His hips jolted forward but the arm pinning his waist wouldn’t give. Another brush of fingers to his cock and Draco’s whole body was straining, muscles tight with need. He fought the embarrassing urge to plead, instead focusing on breathing. He could feel the boy behind him, his breathing rougher and erection burning through his robes as it rocked against Draco slowly. Yes, definitely male.
The hand cupped his balls lightly and Draco’s breath caught. The boy was tentative, as if afraid he would disappear if pushed too fast. Draco would have told him that it was fine but his voice wasn’t working at the moment. Hesitant fingers trailed up and down the length of his cock, tormentingly slowly until Draco was fully erect and whimpering mindlessly.
Draco struggled, needing more than light touches, but the hand pulled away. “Don’t…” Draco fell silent when the body pulled away as well, leaving him cold and alone.
Anxiety hit him but not the absolute terror that had gripped him before. Would the boy leave him there, vulnerable and hard, or was it some sort of game? Draco was too prideful to ask. If he was going to be left to die again he wouldn’t give the bastard the added bonus of hearing him beg like some frightened child. At least the boy hadn’t gone far. Draco could sense the heat circling him, the powerful gaze watching him. Gods, that stare could burn.
Hands suddenly slid up his arms to land on Draco’s hands. He gasped, feeling the boy standing in front of him. Was he being released? Did he want to be?
“I can’t stop looking at you. You’re so fucking beautiful,” the boy growled into Draco’s ear, breath hot on his neck. “I want to have all of you at once but I can’t. I have to decide where to start. Seeing you stretched out like this…” The boy’s voice broke with a shudder, dripping with pure need. He stepped forward, lining up their bodies together from hands to toes, just resting against Draco.
Draco groaned in relief, pressing his hips forward and responding encouragingly to the face nuzzling his neck. Just nerves. The boy was bold but not very experienced. That was fine. Hell of a lot better than being left to die, or maybe worse, stopping. He could handle the slow fiery burn, even if hard and fast would have been just as nice.
“Ah…fuck.” Draco let out a low moan as the boy’s hot mouth latched onto his collar bone and began sucking, a hand sliding back to tangle in his hair. Yeah, this was more than fine.
Once his neck with near numb with pleasure, the mouth pulled away and Draco chased it, sliding his lips against the other’s swollen ones. The boy hesitated and Draco almost pulled back until he realized that it was once again a lack of confidence from the other.
“Come here,” Draco whispered, pressing forward and slowly meeting soft lips. He flicked his tongue against the yielding flesh, tasting cocoa, toothpaste, and something beneath it all that had Draco pressing harder, teeth biting until the full lips parted and divine heat greeted him.
He kissed slowly, becoming familiar with the mouth. Exploring every surface and taunting the other’s tongue into a leisurely wrestling match. The boy quickly caught on, responding with a raw need that left them both breathless.
The hands in his hair tightened painfully and Draco cried out. What had been sore, burning bruises only a few minutes ago were now super sensitive aches of flesh that only amplified his pleasure. He rubbed up against the body before him, gasping from the sensation of the rough material against his exposed flesh. Since his arms were still secure, Draco used his leg to pull closer. Finding his balance, he slid his right leg up, pushing the boy’s robe aside with his knee to wrap around a pair of jean clad thighs. The friction was amazing and Draco ground his hips against the sturdy form.
“Hell,” the boy groaned into his mouth. He pulled Draco closer, one hand circling his raised thigh and kneading the flesh with strong fingers while thrusting against him in a slow, desperate rhythm.
“I want to… to feel your skin.” Draco tried to get closer, rubbing his body wantonly even as the chains around his wrists pulled him back. The fabric was almost painful against his sensitive skin. But Draco didn’t mind, his power rising up to compensate.
“I think we can do that.” All confident taunts had been stripped from the voice to leave a heady, dark growl of desire. The boy pulled back enough to remove his cloak. His knuckles brushed Draco’s skin, pulling small gasps from the blond as the boy unbuttoned his school shirt. He tore the material away quickly and sunk back against Draco’s body with a moan. “Better?”
Draco shuddered in approval. The other boy’s flesh burned against his, smoothly sliding. Draco pulled at his chains with a snarl. He wanted to wrap his arms around that taut body… dig fingers in… sink teeth deep into that hot flesh so he could taste every fucking inch. The chains made a high pitched screech and began to give way. Draco’s triumphant smile fell when a rush of magic tingled over his arms and reinforced the bonds.
“Malfoy,” the boy warned. He grabbed a chunk of Draco’s hair and pulled until the blond’s head was bent back and elegant neck exposed. “Control your blood or I will.”
Draco’s smiled wickedly and licked his lips. Centuries of magical beings integrated into his genes were trying to gain control of the situation. “Think of it as a compliment. It takes a hell of a lot of passion to get my beasts roaring.” Growling, he threw his other leg around the boy’s waist, grabbing the chains with his hands and pulling himself up. He didn’t even flinch from the punishing pull to his hair. The pain was more than welcome.
“Too bad you didn’t use it earlier. If it was anything like that quidditch match, Zabini would have been dead.” The boy grunted softly from the extra weight. He slid his hands under Draco’s thighs, balancing them. “Not that I’m complaining.” He kissed the pulse in Draco’s neck and bit down lightly.
“Ah… Fuck. It, ah, takes a certain power. He doesn’t affect me… enough to wake it up.”
“Mmm… Don’t you hate him enough?” The boy slid his tongue out where he had just bit, licking firmly.
“Oh, yes… I wouldn’t fuck him though. Lust is the easiest way—Oh hell! Do that harder. Oohhh.” Teeth sank in deeper into his throat, enough to bruise, enough to mark. Pleasure burst in hot spots behind his eyes and Draco felt his body go limp for long moments as his mind drifted. “Bloody hell.”
The voice laughed, a low, sensual breath of air that curled around Draco’s ear and sent shivers down his spine. “You do realize what you just implied, right? You were fighting Potter two years ago when you first showed your power.”
Draco stiffened but didn’t pull away. “Drop it.”
“Heh, did I hit a nerve?” He laughed again, grinding his hips into Draco’s. “Maybe you’re so hot for it because you’re thinking of a certain Scarhead.”
Hissing, Draco snapped his head forward, catching the bastard in the chin. “Drop it, or I turn your face into hamburger.” Anyone with half a brain knew not to bring up Potter in his company, bastard. Following the scent of blood, Draco smashed his lips down and rolled his hips. He smiled into the kiss when the other boy responded with vigor, short fingernails scratching down his back. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you liked that.”
“You’re not the only one with magical beings in their bloodline, Malfoy. Some just fucking control themselves better.”
Draco laughed darkly. “A challenge?”
“No… not tonight.” The boy softened his tone, all additional tension from the power within draining from his form. He kissed Draco gently, slowly, until the blond settled down. The erection griding into his stomach was the only sign of how close Draco was to losing his patience. “Tonight you play.”
Nuzzling into the other’s neck, Draco nodded. “Fine. Now take off your fucking trousers already. I want to feel all of you.” He carefully unwound his legs and stood shakily on the cold floor.
Shoes clattered, followed by the rip of a zipper and the dull drop of clothes hitting the floor. The only other noise was their combined breathing and the chains clinking lightly as Draco swayed. Steps padded lightly on the stone, letting Draco know he was once again being circled. He stood taller, waiting patiently.
A hand touched his arm and he gasped. But his companion didn’t stop moving, instead sliding his hands over whatever piece of flesh caught his attention while he stalked around the blond. Each touch was a jolt to Draco’s senses, his cock twitching with need. The bastard was either pushing his luck or still debating how to approach him.
“Hell, if your intent is to drive me mad, you’re closer than you think.” Draco groaned, jumping as his nipple was pinched. Another hand found his side and long fingers ghosted over. He trembled, panting quietly.
“There’s just so much to admire, Malfoy.” The boy stopped and stepped back into Draco. He wrapped an arm around his waist, pressing their bare torsos together with a sigh. He then slid a hand between the press of their bodies and slowly moved it down. His mouth made its way back to Draco’s, kissing deeply and trailing saliva when he moved down to kiss his jaw.
“Ahh… fuck. You make me want it so bad,” Draco groaned, the press of the other’s bare flesh overwhelming his senses. He locked a leg around the boy’s leg, rubbing it up and down to revel in the sensation of soft body hair. The pace was painfully slow but Draco forced himself to follow along. He refused to stop even if his friend was a little too jumpy.
The evil, teasing hand finally made its way to his cock, wrapping firmly. Draco moaned, the hand stilling all motion as if daring himself to go on. Draco was not in the mood to see how long that would take. “Shit, come on. Just like your own, only in reverse.” Draco slid his mouth over the side of the boy’s face and found his ear, lightly biting down. The boy gasped in surprise and tightened his grip even more. Slow, long strokes pulled hesitantly around his cock. “Yes, ahhhh, that’s it. Oh fuck… so good.”
“If you only fucking knew how you looked right now.” His voice breaking with lust, the boy buried his face into Draco’s shoulder, finding the mark he had made earlier and sucking on it as the blond thrust into his fist.
The heated words were a touch all their own, sincere and passionate. Draco forced himself to go slower. He wanted to touch the boy so badly but the other seemed to need some semblance of control to keep going. It was maddening. That voice inside him was clamoring for something… needed something…
Draco groaned and opened his mouth. “Fuck me,” he whispered, stilling all motion to show he was serious. “I want you inside me. Now.”
His breath coming out in a soft hiss, the boy pulled his head back. He trailed his hands over the blond’s body, rolling one of his dusky nipples between thumb and forefinger until Draco whimpered and rested his head forward against the boy’s shoulder. He slid his other hand down, cupping Draco’s ass and pulling him tight against his body. Holding him steady, he began rocking them together.
Shuddering, Draco thrust up, rubbing their bare erections together with a cry. His whole body was aching, and he felt long, lithe and amazing with each quiet moan the boy holding him made. “Oh gods.” Fingers began to circle his entrance and he spread his legs wide, not caring that he might as well be begging for it. “That’s it… yesss.” Draco licked his lips, nuzzling his head against the boy’s cheek and trailing his tongue over the smooth flesh as a finger slowly penetrated him. His hips jolted back but the flinch of pain was well worth the burst of pleasure that followed.
“You’re so tight. Fuck… Too tight to not be your first.”
“Mmmm… there’s a first time for everything,” Draco moaned breathlessly. “Like I said… you make my, mmmm, my beasts roar—Oh!” The angle of the finger suddenly changed, brushing against his prostate with wonderful results. “Oh fuck, again. Again.”
“Like this?” The boy quirked his finger again, becoming more bold with his positive reaction. Draco moaned unintelligibly and rubbed his head against the boy’s neck, mouth moving until he found the perfect spot to mark.
There was something dark inside of Draco, that other voice that had only started making itself known the last couple years. It wanted this boy. He couldn’t explain why—it was a complicated voice—but it wanted him bad and wanted him now. “Please… please… fuck, I need you.” Another finger pressed into his entrance, causing Draco’s whole body to tremble uncontrollably.
The boy pulled his head back, gaze searing over him while his fingers continued to slowly stretch the blond. “Do you really?” He asked quizzically, almost as if detached from the scene. “You don’t even know me, Malfoy.”
Draco shook his head and laughed weakly. “Gods, I know you. I haven’t figured it out yet, but I know you. That weird beast inside me definitely knows you and your weird beast… Oh. Oh yes. Uh, yeah… Don’t think I won’t—Oh fuck.” Draco pushed hard against the fingers stroking inside of him, trying to bury them deeper.
“You won’t what?”
“I’ll find you,” Draco promised with a whimper, holding tight to his bonds to keep himself from swaying to the side.
“Fight me?”
It took a moment for him to process another thought through the lust fogging his brain. “Maybe. Probably kill you, if you don’t fuck me already. Come on… I need you inside me.” He nipped painfully at the boy’s flesh to spur him into action.
“Fuck.” Not changing what his hands were doing, the boy rubbed against Draco and slowly slid down to his knees.
“Wait, I need—Fuck!” Draco cried out, certain he’d have fallen forward if not for his restraints as impossible heat engulfed his cock. “Oh gods… oh gods, I can’t.” He was going to come if the boy didn’t stop. And he didn’t want to come, not until the boy was buried deep inside him.
Shit, for a tentative kisser, he sure had no problems with his mouth where it mattered.
“Wait… Come on, please… Oh, oh hell… again… just like that.” Draco gave up, unable to fight the hot mouth sucking him off. Instead he began to rock forward, losing himself in the feel of the fingers filling and receding in his channel and the sensation of wet heat moving over his cock and taking him down deep.
Draco thrust lightly, wondering just how much the boy could take. He hadn’t gagged at all. Maybe he preferred to bottom. Gods, he must be a good fuck with a mouth like that… “C’mere. If you’re not going to fuck me, then at least let me feel you,” Draco said shakily, stilling his hips and the urge to dominate the experienced mouth.
The boy took his time, sure to get a thorough taste of the blond before rising from his position and leaning in to kiss. “You taste fucking amazing.”
Draco mumbled something inarticulate. A third finger was pressing up against his hole and he was having a hard time noticing anything else. He jolted as his lip was bit to the point of pain, and instinctively responded in kind before he realized that blood was spilling from both their mouths. “Shit… oh hell.”
The boy didn’t back down, his tongue trailing over Draco’s mouth and chin, sliding down to catch the trickle that had made its way to his neck. Blood and beasts went hand in hand, and it took everything Draco had to hold onto his restraint as the boy rocked against him.
“I’ll make a deal with you, Malfoy. I want you. Right now, I think I would go seek out Voldemort and blow him just for the chance to bury myself in your oh-so-perfect ass.” The boy annunciated each word with a sharp thrust of his hips. “Sadly, I have this thing called a conscience. You may have heard of it. It keeps you from doing very bad things.”
“You’re really not helping yourself here,” Draco growled. He was too turned on to be truly offended, and wriggled as close as he could get, his cock snug against the boy’s. “What’s the deal?” Please let it involve burying and his ass…
“Yes… ah, the deal.” The boy let out a low moan, using his free hand to slide between their flushed bodies and wrap shakily around their combined lengths.
“Oh fuck!” Draco’s breath exploded out, his body tightening and back arching.
“Fuck yess… Ah, Malfoy, you get a choice.” The boy stilled their motions enough to whisper into Draco’s ear with some sense of clarity. “When you find me, which I’m sure you will once you understand what that beast of yours is saying… Um, yeah. So find me. And then you can decide if you still want me.”
Draco shook his head weakly once the words sunk in. “Just fuck me. Gods, please.” A strangled sob escaped him as the hand around their lengths began to move and the fingers in his ass resumed their thrusts. Coordinated… bastard.
The boy quickly smashed his mouth to Draco’s. “Fuck, don’t say that. Don’t beg, or I’m going to split you apart, Draco. I want to so bad. You’re so—Fuck, that’s hot.” The boy shuddered as Draco whispered another demanding please. “Damn fucking conscience!”
“Oh, harder… Yes, that’s it.” Draco was too close to notice when his arms fell, immediately wrapping them tight around the boy fisting their cocks together. “Don’t stop… Oh gods. Yes.”
Mouth open in a silent cry, a slippery finger brushed deep against his prostate and Draco came hard, feeling every inch of his cock pulsing in rhythm with the thicker one wrapped against his.
“Hell… fucking hell,” the boy hoarsely whispered out as his own release followed, spilling hot seed onto Draco’s stomach. “Gods… you look good like that. Real good.”
Draco moaned weakly, his arms wrapped around the other’s neck the only thing keeping him up since his knees had turned rubbery. His orgasm had come with an annoying weight of tiredness. Even as he knew this, he could also sense that other inner voice telling him to catch the boy for good and claim him in a more permanent fashion… Whatever that meant.
Draco frowned, grumbling as the world tilted and the warm body supporting him started shifting. “Give me a sec. My arms feel like they’re being attacked by pixies.”
“Sorry, Malfoy. We need to go before the room pulls its disappearing act.” Draco felt arms pulling him up, lifting him easily. The boy was strong. “Just gotta grab my clothes and get my wand.”
Draco was aware of the rustling of fabric right up to the point where the tip of a wand was placed to his forehead. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Figure it out. I’ll be waiting.” The boy quickly whispered a sleeping spell. Draco was able to feel relieved he wasn’t being killed, and momentarily angry for being knocked out, before fully losing consciousness.
Draco awoke blearily, the crackling of torches pulling him from his sleep. He ached everywhere. But it was a strangely delicious manner, as if he had been stoned with marshmallows instead of heavy rocks.
Slowly the numbness faded and he gained enough awareness to realize that he was in the hospital wing and all alone.
The windows were pitch black and Draco quickly rose from the bed hoping to keep the night on his side.
Oh, yes, he was sore. He pushed aside his hospital gown, examining the bruises and bandaged wounds on his perfect body. The beast rose up in him, reminding him that he had some hunting to do.
A group of Ravenclaw fifth years, up early in preparation for studying, entered the Great Hall for breakfast. They were greeted with the sight of four very nude seventh year Slytherins hanging upside down from the ceiling. Their faces were bright red either from embarrassment or the settling of blood.
The Slytherins did not scream, or cry for help, nor did they move. If not for the motion of their eyes, eyelids unblinkingly open, the Ravenclaws would have thought they were dead. Since they weren’t dead, and the four Slytherins each had a distinct mark burned onto their arm among the many bruises and slashes all over each body, the Ravenclaws sat down at their usual table and began to eat.
An hour later the Great Hall was a roar of commotion, students speculating who could have stuck the whole Slytherin seventh and six year classes all over the castle. And what the victims must have done to deserve to be so humiliated.
The other members of the sixth and seventh year Slytherin dorms had been stripped as well, but they were hung right side up and in less visible place. Much like surprising mistletoe, haunting doorways and classrooms at every turn. None of them could move and all of their eyes had been forced open so that they had to see everyone that saw them.
The teachers were trying to get them free and having little luck at it.
Blaise, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle had been the unlucky four in the Great Hall to hang above while every person who came to eat could see them and laugh at the suggestive positions they had been left in. They must have made someone very angry, Ron thought, and with a laugh he silently thanked whoever had gotten revenge.
Harry, mildly amused by the new decorations, didn’t linger with the rest of the students, reminding his friends that they had potions and Snape would be in an extra foul mood. Not wanting to be late and becoming the scapegoats for the potion teacher’s anger, the seventh year Gryffindors quickly gathered their things and filed out of the Hall.
On reaching the Potions classroom, locked until Snape deemed himself ready, they all had to wonder what they would do since they shared the class with the Slytherin seventh years and each were now missing a partner.
“Do you think they were real?” Hermione asked her two friends quietly, referring to the dark marks clearly seen on the four Slytherins in the Great Hall. All the other students stumbled upon didn’t have the mark aligning them to Voldemort. It became a wonder if the prankster had placed the mark on them when hanging the four. Or if the four Slytherins had been singled out because they had those very marks.
“They’re real,” Harry said with certainty. He had seen the mark enough to know and even though quite fresh, they were real.
Ron nodded in agreement. “I’m surprised Malfoy wasn’t hanging up there with the rest. Did anyone find him yet? I bet anything, they stuck him on the goalpost in the quidditch field.”
“Not bad, Weasley. It’s quite fitting since I’m always kicking your ass in the sport,” Draco spoke up behind Ron, causing the boy to whirl in shock.
“You’re free! How are you free?”
Draco smiled darkly. “Wasn’t caught in the first place.” Before Ron could grill him with a million questions, the potions’ classroom door flew open. Snape towered in the doorway, his expression grim.
“I would ask that you children refrain from commenting on the new addition to our class. Those remaining students will complete the day’s work alone until this crisis can be remedied. I will be busy brewing a solution to the sticking charms in Lab 2. Refrain from disturbing me or destroying the classroom.” His voice a dark purr, Snape stalked back into the room, giving no glance to the nude Nott stuck on the wall as he retreated through the connecting door.
“Hey there, Nott,” Draco said cheerfully, waving to the boy stuck to the dead center of Snape’s chalkboard. “How’s it hanging? Oh wait… I can see. Not much for hanging, is there?” He smiled viciously and took his seat, pulling out his notes from his bag.
Seamus, ignoring all Slytherin Gryffindor protocol, bounced over to Draco and asked demandingly, “How’d you do it, Malfoy?”
Draco flipped through his notes, hardly sparing him a glance. “If you mean my potion, I suggest you ask Potter since he’s my partner in this one. Although, I do frown on cheating,” he added.
Ron scoffed and the rest of the Gryffindors crowded over to Draco’s seat. “Only when it’s not your friends. And I have to say, it looks like you don’t have many friends at all if you’re hanging them all on the walls in the buff.”
Draco placed his papers down, looking up in mock innocence. “You can’t possibly think that I had anything to do with that? Not when all my friends and housemates have been attacked in such a crude, and very violent way. It seems more a barbaric Gryffindor prank.”
“Like anyone here could have done that. And all in one night?” Hermione said knowingly. “You’re the only one I know that could have pulled that off.”
“Oh, what about Potter?” Draco pointed out. “He actually has a motive, too, since the quidditch cup match is coming up against Slytherin.”
Harry nodded. “I could have done it. But I wouldn’t have. I’m just not that brutal.” He gave Draco a searching look and then took his seat next to the blond. Draco measured him right back, quickly reminded that Potter had shown potential of having his own beast sleeping inside on many an occasion.
Still… Potter was just too much of a goody-goody. As hot as Potter was with his messy dark hair, glowing green eyes and lush mouth, Draco just couldn’t imagine the boy having the nerve to molest him when the opportunity was available. Learning how to dress properly and ditching his nerdy glasses didn’t mean Potter knew anything about fucking.
Draco had ruled out Slytherins on principle alone, along with Hufflepuffs. That left Ravenclaws and Gryffindors, and Draco was rightfully rooting for the former. It was bad enough that he was in the predicament he was in with his housemates. He did not need anything else to make him a target.
Although he had little worry that his dear classmates would be attacking him anytime soon. Not unless the teachers were able to counter his time release seal that would free the Slytherins days after graduation. A good month away.
“If you lot will excuse us, I can’t concentrate on my work when you’re hovering.” Draco stood, those closest forced to step back, and he made his way to the storage closet. The other students rambled after with their ingredients list just in case Snape came around and started hexing.
Harry was busy preparing the next round of ingredients when Draco had enough time to relax and look around the room for signs of his mystery boy. He looked for those a little taller than him, and with hair not too closely cropped but not too long either.
Thankfully the Weasel King was taller than anyone in the room, and Draco was saved that suicide.
Finnigan was about the right height and he had been letting his hair grow out lately. Draco didn’t sense anything from him though and his beast had no recollection of another soul dwelling in the rambunctious boy. Draco glanced at Seamus’s hands, trying to picture if they were like the mystery boy’s. His nails were a bit too short and Draco gladly crossed him off his mental list of candidates.
“Hey, Malfoy,” Harry whispered, leaning into Draco’s shoulder while chopping a long root. “For real, are you okay? You’re covered in bruises and you walked in here with a limp.”
Draco glanced over in surprise. Spending most of his time hunting and capturing his classmates, he had only bothered to heal the obvious wounds on his face. Potter had been the only one to notice, everyone else preoccupied with him actually being there and not stuck to the ceiling.
Eyes straying to the blade flashing in precise slices, Draco peered closer to see what Harry’s fingernails looked like. They were long enough to dig into his back…
“Is there a reason you’re sniffing my neck, Malfoy?” Harry asked, turning amused eyes to Draco.
Draco hadn’t caught any familiar scent and his beast was currently denying any signs of a beast in Potter. Although… Draco was well aware that Potter had one. He had sensed it quite clearly when his own had woken up the first time two years ago. Narrowing his eyes at the confused look he was getting, Draco asked a question of his own. “How tall are you, Potter?”
“Oh… I don’t know. A bit more than you, I’d say,” Harry said smugly, turning back to his work. Draco glared and turned away, more than happy that the obnoxious Gryffindor couldn’t be the one.
It wasn’t until afternoon, and Draco was roaming the halls making sure he said hello to all the Slytherins currently hanging in the castle, that he caught the scent. His beast roared up immediately in recognition and Draco had to grab the wall to keep from stumbling as his knees went weak.
Whoever the fuck he was, Draco’s body responded in ways it never had before and it left him momentarily stunned. By the time he pulled himself together and made it to the hallway the scent was drifting from, a mass of students getting out of their last class was broiling about. Draco’s nose couldn’t discern up from down with all the people.
Cursing, he stomped around for a bit and to his shock, a little dribble of scent reached him and he held on, quickly rounding corners and students, only to smack right into Hermione Granger, knocking them both to the ground.
“Shit!” Draco snarled, rubbing his forehead with one hand and helping the girl up with the other. “Did anyone else go by here just now?”
“If they did, they went around me,” Hermione retorted sharply, pulling her bag up and checking the contents for anything broken. “Honestly Malfoy, all the Slytherins are tied up. There’s no one left to be chasing you.”
Draco focused on the girl instead of walking off like he had intended. “And just what do you know of Slytherins chasing me, Granger?” He asked, warning clear in his voice.
Hermione tossed her head back, hardly intimidated. “I know they beat the crap out of you last night and you stuck them to the walls in retaliation. They’ve been plotting your downfall ever since that article was printed about your father. Not all of us are completely daft to inter-house politics.”
Not satisfied, but not in the mood to talk with the girl either, Draco just shrugged. “As long as Potter doesn’t have it in his thick skull that he can try and save me, or some rot. I don’t need your help.”
“Clearly.” Hermione rolled her eyes. “Although, if we were to help, we would have had better results than a beating and humiliation. And no one would have found the bodies until we were ready for them to be released. The professors are bound to get them down eventually.”
Draco resisted the childish urge to stick his tongue out at the girl. “Whatever, Granger. Public humiliation suits my needs much more than torture and information. Whenever they’re cut loose, they’ll still be expelled for the mark, and their families will be ousted in the papers long before that time comes. If it all goes well, the four of them will be disowned—Not that I’m admitting to any part in the matter. I’m just quite content with the outcome.” Draco smiled at the thought and then brushed past the girl.
The scent had completely disappeared and Draco scowled at the realization that Granger had made him lose it. Bloody Gryffindors.
Decided, he changed directions and headed toward the library where he would be sure to have his fill of Ravenclaws to sort through. Hopefully the boy he was looking for would be there.
It was late when Draco finally dragged himself to the Great Hall for dinner. The room was practically deserted except for the Gryffindor quidditch team, who had been practicing that evening.
Draco sat as far away from the group as possible. But without the other Slytherins to create the proper intimidating atmosphere, little deterred the Gryffindors from picking up their plates and sitting down around him at the table. Draco’s annoyance was kept in check by the sudden, intense appearance of the scent. He sat at attention, looking at the faces of the boys all smiling at him.
“Not to be a bother, Malfoy, but would you mind telling us how you stuck them up like that?” Seamus asked brightly, pointing his fork up to the ceiling where the four Slytherins still hung suspended above. The teachers had tried to at least cover them up but Peeves had floated up and stolen the sheets the instant the professors had left the room. “Malfoy?”
Draco showed no signs of hearing, his eyes moving to each boy as he realized they were all saturated in the scent. How, he could only guess, and his lust addled mind immediately jumped to Gryffindor orgy on the quidditch field. A more reasonable explanation was that the source of the scent had dosed them all in passing… Or that the source was at the table and the scent was so strong it was overpowering everything else.
“Malfoy, are you okay?” Harry touched his shoulder, causing Draco to jump and lock his eyes on the tanned hand. Streaked in dirt, it smelled like sweat and endorphins, and Draco calmly asked his beast if it remembered it. It did not.
Draco was sure he did though… He grabbed Harry’s hand to sniff suspiciously. Nothing, but… Uncertain, Draco licked the palm questioningly.
Ron growled and stood, his fist pulled back ready to punch, but Harry held him off with a look. “There’s plenty of food if you’re that hungry, Malfoy,” Harry said carefully. The Gryffindors chuckled awkwardly but Draco didn’t react, still staring at Harry’s hand.
Brows furrowed, Draco licked again, running his mouth against the ridges that seemed very familiar… But still, he couldn’t get a clear read. Deciding there was nothing more to it, he sunk his teeth in and bit down hard. Harry moaned in surprise, his palm dripping scarlet that Draco immediately recognized.
“Potter, you wanking bastard!” Draco snarled, standing and roughly pulling Harry across the table and wrenching his hair. This time when Draco sniffed the boy’s sweat soaked neck, a very familiar scent answered him.
Harry smiled sheepishly, not pulling away from the painful grip on his head. “Well, I couldn’t make it easy on you, could I?”
“I had to draw blood to tell! That is beyond unfair!”
“Oh, like you give a shit about anything fair.” Harry tilted his head back, his smile enticing. “I should remind you that my friends are going to kick the crap out of you if you don’t let me go soon.”
Draco glared unconcernedly at Harry’s wary teammates and then jumped onto the table. He hauled Harry up with him, still holding him by his thick chocolate hair.
“I should have known, Potter. I would have if you hadn’t disguised yourself! I am very pissed off at you right now.”
Harry panted, turning his head in the cruel grasp. “Yeah? What are you going to do about it?”
Draco paused, licking his lips as his beast made many lust crazed suggestion. Harry was dusty from the field, dripping in sweat, and smelling of fresh air. Twisting in Draco’s hold, the boy was damn delectable. “I am… going to make sure you can’t ever disguise yourself from me again,” Draco said finally, remembering that they had an audience.
Harry laughed and leaned in, whispering in Draco’s ear. “The only way to do that is to mate with me. Surely thats just a bit too much for your sensible, self-serving ways, Malfoy.”
Staring expressionlessly at Harry’s mischievousness green eyes, Draco let the boy go abruptly, hands falling to his sides in defeat.
He would not be a pawn to Dumbledore, not even for Harry. Not even if his beasts were screaming at him to claim the infuriating boy for his own.
Draco climbed down from the table, sending an uninterested look at his barely touched dinner. Curling up in bed feeling miserable sounded like a good idea at the moment, and stepping around the confused Gryffindors, Draco headed for the door.
“Oi! Don’t tell me you’re giving up that fucking easy!” Harry shouted after him, scrambling from the table. Ron grabbed his arm but Harry shook him off with a glare and ran after Draco. He caught up with the blond right outside the doors.
“Come on, Malfoy,” Harry insisted, grabbing Draco’s hand. “You’re supposed to be smart.”
Draco whirled, anger twisting his features. “Do not tell me that choosing sides is smart, you pompous—!”
Barking in laughter, Harry pinned Draco effortlessly to the wall by his shoulders. “I had the pleasure of hearing your loyalties first hand. Why don’t you try asking mine?” Harry breathed tauntingly into Draco’s ear.
Draco struggled uselessly against the uncommonly strong grasp. He might win if he let his beast loose, but the creature was very much interested in fucking, not fighting. Snarling, Draco stopped moving, instead growling low at Harry.
“Why bother when you are so fucking deep in his pocket you can’t find your way out!”
“I would have said the same of you, of a different wizard, just yesterday,” Harry reminded soothingly. “Perhaps you should ask me, just in case.”
Draco huffed, staring at Harry suspiciously. “Fine. Who the fuck do you serve?”
“No one.” Harry said bluntly. “Honestly Malfoy, do you think any beast could stand to take orders from anyone?” He asked, face slowly nuzzling into Draco’s neck and breathing deep.
Draco closed his eyes, feeling Harry like he had when chained, flesh against flesh, scent strong in his nose, power radiating from the hard body before him. It was intoxicating… maddening… and he felt very dizzy and very hard all at once.
Harry released Draco’s shoulders, hands tugging at the blond’s shirt and pulling it free from his belt. Those same, rough hands were suddenly on his waist and moving up his back, touching desperately as if they had been apart years instead of less than half a day.
But this time Draco wasn’t chained. Growling, he grabbed Harry’s hips and twisted, slamming the infuriating boy up against the wall. “You’re a fucking asshole, Potter,” Draco snapped before crushing his mouth onto Harry’s ripe lips, biting viciously as the brunette dug nails into his back and clawed down.
Draco tore at Harry’s t-shirt, the cotton stretching and then ripping down the front. He kissed down the flesh of the chest revealed, licking and sucking and biting while Harry groaned, head lolling against the wall in surrender.
“Crap, crap… fucking hell!”
Draco snarled, looking up to find that Harry’s friends had thought to follow. “Potter, get them the fuck out of here,” he demanded, voice hoarse with want.
Harry opened his eyes blearily, focusing on his quidditch teammates staring at him with a mix of horror and amusement, and dare he say, a fair bit of lust.
“You heard the sexy git. Get lost,” Harry said, grabbing the back of Draco’s neck and kissing the boy deeply. Blood had appeared from somewhere and Harry licked at the corner of Draco’s mouth, chasing the metallic flavor.
“Potter, fuck… Stop,” Draco growled, pushing the boy back against the wall again, his body tight and bristling as their audience refused to leave. “Either they leave, or I do.”
Harry gave an exasperated exhale, nudging Draco’s face to the side so he could glare behind him properly. “What? What the fuck do you want? I’m busy.”
Ron, looking green and extremely uncomfortable, shook his head slowly. “You were very clear, Harry. Hermione and I were to keep you from… Well, from exactly what you’re doing. Three years ago we promised that if you lost your shit and started kissing, and or beating Malfoy, we would stop you.”
“Oh… right.” Harry licked his lips thoughtfully, turning his gaze to Draco’s very angry silver eyes. “I was pretty sure you were a Death Eater, Malfoy. It had seemed like the reasonable thing to do at the time.”
“For the last three years? Three years you’ve been calling for me?”
Harry shrugged, his eyes darkening. “Like I told you last night. Some of us have a hell of a lot more control.”
“That means you woke it up that day, Potter. It might have slept forever without someone calling. You’re the fucking reason I’ve been losing my god damn mind the last two years. Fuck!” Draco pushed away, glaring at the extremely gorgeous asshole that always seemed to find a way to ruin his life. “Do you even realize what a fucking monster this thing is in my head? I nearly killed those fuckers!” He pointed to the Great Hall doors and the students hanging from the ceiling unseen behind them.
Harry smiled savagely, stalking forward and grabbing Draco by the biceps. “I am fucking aware.” He kissed Draco again, ferociously, and then started nipping down the blond’s chin and throat with hard, heated bites.
“Shit, Potter… I’m still angry with you!” Draco moaned, even as Harry pulled him into his embrace, the blond’s body trapped against his.
“Ha, you’re so fucking hot when you’re angry…”
Ron, now a very distinct shade of white, tapped Harry on his shoulder. “I’ll stun you if I have to, Har.”
“Weasley, get the fuck out of here before I maim you!” Draco snarled, turning Harry so that he was behind him, and then rounding on Ron. “We are having an important conversation. Stop interrupting!” Draco glared at the group of Gryffindors, Ron sick and the rest laughing. “Fuck off!”
Seamus, wiping tears from his eyes, grabbed Ron’s arm and pulled him away. “Clearly Harry doesn’t need your help, Ron. Nor Malfoy, for that matter. Let’s go.”
Ron resisted, looking torn. They had promised.
Harry grabbed Draco from behind, hands slipping under the blond’s shirt while he kissed up the side of his neck. Ron really did not want to see this, especially with the way Draco was throwing his head back, leaning against Harry and panting. He decided he would find Hermione and figure out what to do from there.
“They’re gone,” Harry murmured into Draco’s throat, his hands seeking out his nipples and squeezing hard. Draco cried out, hips thrusting forward for contact that wasn’t there. Harry pulled him back tighter against his body, rubbing his hard erection against the boy’s ass.
“Potter… we still need to talk.” Draco could barely speak, his body achingly hot everywhere Harry touched.
“Later,” Harry insisted, running his hand down the front of Draco’s pants and pressing his palm into the bulge growing there.
“Noo… fuck… oh fuck.” Draco’s knees gave way, and he would have fallen if Harry hadn’t supported him. Suddenly he was being turned, Harry throwing him over a shoulder as if he weighed nothing at all. Draco shook his head, trying to understand what was happening as Harry carried him down the corridor, the boy’s hand squeezing his ass as he walked.
Draco caught the faces of a group of third years, hands over their mouths to keep from laughing as Harry walked by with a cheeky grin. “Put me down, you ass!” Draco hissed, only to have Harry smack his behind smartly in reply. “You fucking git!”
“Almost there… Unless you’d prefer I take you right on the Great Hall doors?” Harry asked, smirking mischievously. “We can always go back.”
“So help me, I am going to tear you to fucking pieces.” Draco snarled, his claws growing in response to his anger and biting into Harry’s shoulders. Draco watched as Harry’s eyes widened, pupils dilating and lips parting.
Harry stopped, lifted Draco back to the ground, and snapped him up against the wall. “I am going to fucking destroy you,” Harry growled, looking down into the blazing eyes before him.
Draco smirked and suddenly sliced his hand across Harry’s face, four slashes of red appearing from cheek over nose and forehead back to cheek. Harry’s green eyes were near glowing against the scarlet as he glowered down at Draco.
Harry grabbed both of Draco’s wrists, pinning them painfully in his grip. “You are very good at that,” he said heatedly, tongue peeking out to taste the small red drips of blood as they reached his mouth.
“You know what you’re really fucking good at, Potter? Sucking dick.” Draco pushed forward with all his strength and Harry went flying back stumbling, landing in a crouch before he could hit the opposite wall of the hallway. He was smiling, fingers gingerly touching the torn flesh of his face and then licking the blood off his hand.
“Glad you enjoyed it. I have a feeling you’re going to like what comes next even better.” With that Harry straightened, strode forward, and slugged Draco across the cheek. Dazed, Draco didn’t resist the hard kiss that quickly followed, the brunette grinding him back painfully into the wall.
Then Harry was gone, pulling Draco by the collar of his shirt and dragging him down the hallway. Moments later, Draco was pushed against a door, slamming forcefully and then falling backwards as it opened. He twisted, doing his best not to crack his head against the stone floor.
Glaring up from his sprawl on the floor, Draco took in Harry’s dusty jeans, torn shirt, and bleeding, grinning face. Harry slowly shut the door behind him, walking deliberately towards Draco. Seeing an opening, Draco kicked his foot out, wrapping his legs around Harry’s feet and dragging him to the ground.
Eyes wide, Harry windmilled and fell heavily. Not having enough time to brace himself, he landed hard on his shoulder, nearly elbowing Draco in the process. Draco snarled and grabbed Harry’s arm, twisting back and pushing the Gryffindor’s bleeding face brutally against the stone floor. “Three fucking years. Why the fuck didn’t you say something sooner, you pain in the ass?” Draco demanded, leaning forward to bite Harry’s ear hard. “Have you been hiding your scent this whole fucking time too?”
Harry groaned, Draco’s tongue on his cheek licking at the cuts there. “I thought you were His, Malfoy. I wasn’t ever going to touch you. Then your father flipped sides, and… fuck… and I saw the Slytherins carrying you. And I couldn’t fucking stop myself.”
Draco growled, biting Harry again. “And your scent? Tell me!”
“Yes! I was… I was trying to be considerate, you slimy git. When you tried to beat me into the quidditch field, I felt you wake up and respond. It wasn’t fair to you, so I charmed my scent ever since to keep you sane.” Harry was starting to gather his strength again, and he began pushing back against Draco’s weight, lifting himself from the ground. He pushed the blond boy away, meeting the angry glare from where Draco knelt and waited.
“I should have taken you when I had the chance last night. Should have made you mine and never offered a fucking choice.” Harry grabbed his head, growling into his arm. “But I am in control of that part of me.”
“You’re an ass,” Draco grumbled, carefully combing his blond locks into place as he processed what Harry had said. Not only had Potter woken up his beast, but he had then proceeded to hide the mating call from him for two years. Considering the fucking pain in the ass the beast had been without the call, Draco had to wonder what the idiotic Gryffindor had been going through with the call.
Harry reached forward and grabbed Draco’s arm, pulling the startled boy down on top of him. “I’ve been waiting a long time, Draco. I need you.”
“Too fucking bad,” Draco hissed. “I didn’t know it was you last night. I have no interest in mating with you.”
Harry ignored him, tangling fingers through Draco’s hair and kissing the boy hungrily. Draco struggled and bit back, gravity working against him as Harry wrapped his arm around his shoulders and held tight. Harry’s other arm pinned Draco’s hips down. Then his knee nudged between his thighs, and Harry’s leg pressed against Draco’s hard length determinedly.
“Stop—I’m going to kill you… oh…” Harry continued to kiss Draco, tongue driving into his gasping mouth, slowly muffling the furious resistance. He rolled them, his body crushing Draco into the ground, hands free to strip the boy’s shirt off.
“You still have my bites,” Harry pointed out, fingers brushing over the dark red marks he had left on Draco’s skin. “You had to know, even then, that you were mine.”
“Shut the fuck up. I’m not yours. I’m not anyone’s.” Draco pushed at Harry’s shoulders but the boy didn’t budge.
“You are. You are fucking mine.” Harry ran his palms over Draco’s sides and then bit fingers in hard until the pale boy moaned and arched. “One taste and I knew. One fucking taste of your skin and blood when you punched me in the mouth three years ago. Every god damn moment since, I have been fucking insane for you, Draco.”
“You’re just insane… in general,” Draco whimpered, Harry roughly twisting his nipple, then licking his hot mouth down over the flesh, only to pinch again harder.
“Little prat.” Harry began biting down Draco’s chest and stomach, wrenching at the boy’s hips and tearing at the clasp and fly to Draco’s pants after removing his belt. Draco was still mumbling about hating Harry and wanting to kill him, but his body was readily responding to his touch, hips raising to allow him to pull his pants and briefs down and off his legs.
Without hesitating, Harry licked his palm and wrapped his fingers around Draco’s long, smooth cock, stroking it to full arousal. Draco cried out, fingers curling into fists on Harry’s shoulders, hips bucking into the touch. “No… oh fuck, don’t.” He scrabbled at Harry’s back, tearing at the ripped tee and pulling it off in shreds. “I am not… yours.”
Harry laughed lowly, gripping Draco’s jaw and pulling the boy’s gaze to his. “Tell that to the pretty mark you left on my face.”
Draco swallowed, very much finding the claiming slashes on Harry’s face beautiful and belonging to the handsome boy. “Fuck you, Potter.”
Harry pushed Draco down flat on the floor. “Maybe after I fuck you first.” He pulled the blond’s knees up, pushing them until Draco was spread out and exposed before him. Then hands following down the smooth thighs, he sought out Draco’s pink entrance and began probing.
“Damn it… oh, wait just a fucking second… fuck… oh gods.” Draco thrashed as two long fingers breached him, Harry managing some sort of lubricating spell at just the right moment. This was not over. Draco would beat the crap out of the smug, infuriating Gryffindor. But… but his beast was very loud and winning so first he would see to that deal of burying and his ass.
“Shit, how are you so tight again?” Harry grunted, nuzzling his face in Draco’s neck and sucking thoroughly as he fucked the tight boy with his fingers. Draco was digging claws into his back, whispering something about hurrying the fuck up, and damn if Harry was going to argue about it.
Harry quickly undid his own fly, pushing his jeans and underwear down his thighs, and pulling the aching boy’s hips to him. He pressed experimentally against Draco’s entrance, feeling the flesh yield. Draco’s hands were suddenly grasping his forearms and Harry looked up, meeting the intense silver glare.
Licking his lips, Harry slowly pressed forward, watching as Draco’s mouth parted in a silent moan. He could feel the blond’s flesh loosening and opening to him, tight and burning hot as Harry delved in excruciatingly slow.
Draco found his voice, crying out lowly as his channel was spread wide and filled completely, Harry pushing in with small, shallow thrusts until entirely entrenched inside. Tears were stinging his eyes and Draco wasn’t sure if it was from pain or the extremely intimate feeling overtaking him from Harry being buried so deep and fully. He gasped for air, trying to find some sort of semblance around the unbearable fullness.
“Fuck… look at you,” Harry murmured, pushing Draco’s silky hair off the boy’s sweaty face and running fingers across the gasping, pink lips. “Yes, you’re mine. I can see it on your face, Draco. Your body… your entire beautiful body is telling me.” He kissed Draco’s bottom lip, and then tugged, teeth nipping until blood ran.
Draco shuddered, unable to look away from Harry’s possessive gaze. At that moment he was certain Harry was right and he most surely belonged to the brunette. Unwilling to admit it, he rocked his hips to distract, and then groaned, the feeling overwhelming from the movement.
“Oh, hell.” Harry’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, Draco clenching around him. He couldn’t stop himself from pulling back and thrusting deep. Draco sobbed in his ear and Harry did it again, wanting to hear the boy cry, and beg, and finally admit that he was his.
Draco was so tight, hot and slick, and Harry couldn’t take it any longer. He braced an arm on the floor, gripped Draco’s hip tighter, and began to steadily pump into the gasping boy. Claws biting into his back, a leg thrown over his shoulder, Draco held onto him, no longer resisting. Instead he urgently started pushing back into each thrust, helping to bury Harry in deeper.
“That’s it… fuck, Draco.” Their ragged breathing was loud in the room, broken by the wet sounds of Harry’s cock driving in and out of Draco’s slickness. Draco’s aching cries and gasps echoed dully as Harry thoroughly fucked the boy and made him his.
Harry held back as long as he could, wanting Draco to feel every moment, every inch, and never forget that this was how he belonged. Under him… opened to him… begging and pleading for more.
“Please… oh please,” Draco cried again, his body arching, head thrown back to reveal his long pale neck. “Don’t stop… please.”
Harry grinned viciously, biting the boy’s shoulder. “Never… fucking… stopping.”
“Harry… please… oh, fuck… please,” Draco whimpered, a low desperate sound, and grabbed Harry’s hair. “Bite… hard.”
Harry glanced up at the boy and then stared, catching the look of pure, agonizing torment on Draco’s face. That would prove Draco was his. That would show anyone that fucking looked at the sexy prat that he belonged to him and only him.
“Tell me you’re mine,” Harry demanded, thrusting harder into Draco.
“Fuck you!” Draco choked out, head lolling to the side. He wrapped his free leg around Harry’s waist and rolled his hips, trying to get very needed pressure onto his aching erection.
Harry glared, and with utter, terrible restraint, stopped all motion. He grabbed Draco’s arms and pinned them to each side of the boy’s head. “You are fucking insufferable. Tell me.”
Draco, hips bucking, laughed. “Make me.” He forced his head up, meeting Harry’s narrowed eyes. “Come on, Potter. Fucking make me.”
“Arrogant fucking pain in the ass!” Harry disentangled himself from Draco’s sweat soaked, delicious body and stood, grabbing the blond by the waist and hauling him along. Harry kicked his jeans off all the way and took a quick look around the dusty classroom.
Draco squawked as he was pushed roughly across the room and into the heavy teacher’s desk, the desk’s lip biting into his thighs. Harry painfully grabbed the back of his head and forced Draco’s face down into the wood, kicking his long legs wide as he bent the boy over.
“Alright, let’s try this again,” Harry snapped, smacking Draco painfully across his raised bare ass. “Who do you belong to?” He ran his hand softly over where he had just hit, touching the burning spot softly as he waited for Draco to answer.
“I am… going to… fucking kill you,” Draco panted out, fighting and failing to get his head off the desk under Harry’s hold.
Harry slapped him again, this time on the other cheek to leave matching marks. He pressed forward, rubbing his dripping erection against the stinging flesh, smiling when Draco moaned. “I’m waiting.”
“You fucking… son of a whore.” Draco closed his eyes as Harry smacked him again, trying to understand why he was so achingly hard. But he was, Harry’s continuous soft touch over the numb, heated flesh making Draco press back and spread his legs wider.
Harry noticed, nostrils flaring and eyes narrowing as Draco tried to get more contact. “You are so unbelievably hot right now… Fuck, Draco. Just tell me so I can claim you.”
“I have told you. I don’t belong… to anyone.”
“Gods fucking damn stubborn foul mouthed sexy prat.” Muttering angrily, Harry lined himself up with Draco’s entrance and surged forward, keeping the blond flat against the desk as he began to ream the infuriating boy he had fallen for ages ago. “You are going to… fucking tell me… or I am going to… fuck you all night!” He promised, thrusting into Draco gruelingly while the pale boy moaned and spread this thighs wider.
“Oh fuck… harder.” Draco grabbed uselessly at the hand holding his head down, pushing back into the hard thrusts trying to claim him. “Oh fuck… so good.” His flesh ached where Harry had spanked him, tight and hot against the brunette’s rocking hips.
Suddenly Harry lifted his hand and pushed Draco forward, Draco’s thighs smarting against the desk, head and chest no longer having a surface to rest against. Draco spread his arms wide and gripped the table, Harry thrusts changing direction and increasing intensity. White flashed behind Draco’s eyes and he cried out, Harry hitting the sensitive spot buried inside him.
“Fuck, you’re close,” Harry grumbled, eying Draco’s long, flushed body heatedly. The stubborn boy still refused to admit he was his. Draco had no problem begging, and whimpering please and harder, but the fucking ass just wouldn’t submit. Harry would not bite him without consent, no matter how much he fucking knew Draco was his and that Draco damn well knew it too.
Harry reached around Draco, finding the boy’s straining arousal crushed unpleasantly against the desk, He pulled the blond up so that he was leaning back unsteadily against him, and began to pump the hard flesh as he fucked Draco in long, driving thrusts. “You want this Draco… You want me… Just fucking say it.”
Draco moaned, head falling back against Harry’s shoulder. “Shut up.”
“Tell me, you gorgeous prat… Tell me you’re mine.” He found Draco’s prostate again, giving it a long stroke.
Draco’s mouth fell open, saliva dripping down, eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck… oh fuck, please.”
“Oh, you’re tight… fucking hell,” Harry groaned, Draco’s length swelling, jumping under his fingers as it streamed seed over his hand and the desk. Harry continued to thrust, slow and hard into the boy’s clenching channel, grunting at the tightness. He pushed Draco down against the desk, slamming into the maddening heat again and again. Harry came with a hoarse shout, filling Draco’s eagerly clenching body.
“Fuck Potter… oh fuck, yes.” Draco, eyes closing, relaxed as Harry fell against him and crushed him onto the desk. “Fucking amazing.” He panted heavily, heart still pounding in his ears.
Harry nodded blindly, having to agree. “You’re a stubborn ass.”
Draco smirked lazily, wiggling in Harry’s grip. “Come here and let me see that cut on your face.”
Harry obliged grudgingly, feeling very tired. He pulled out of Draco and stood, helping the blond sit up. Draco ran gentle fingers over the slash on Harry’s nose, looking thoughtful.
“You know, Potter, as nice as this looks…” Draco suddenly grabbed Harry’s hair, viciously twisting his head and sinking teeth into his throat. Harry howled in surprise and pain, body tensing and arching backwards. Draco wrapped his free arm around Harry’s chest, using his weight to push the boy down to his knees.
“Sodding… wanking… ferret!” Harry hissed, Draco’s magic rushing over him, binding him, claiming him. His body shook in Draco’s hold, agonizing waves of pain and pleasure washing through him while Draco puffed hot air on his neck, blood and saliva dripping hotly down his skin.
Draco ignored Harry’s complaints, running a hand gently across his cheek and jaw, soothing while he continued to clamp his teeth tight. Draco’s beast had calmed at the mating bite, its roar now a simple purr in his chest as Harry thrashed.
“Draco… oh fuck… please.” Draco raised a brow at the un-Harry like words, slowly tracing the brunette’s features as he finished the bond. When he finally pulled away, jaw aching, Draco found Harry flat on his back, green eyes blinking unseeingly as a dazed smile graced his lips.
Draco flexed his jaw, trying to relieve the sore muscles. “You are fucking mine, Harry,” he said, leaning over the groggy boy who nodded dully in reply.
“Say it,” Draco insisted, grabbing Harry’s hair and pulling.
“Fuck… I’m yours, Draco. Always yours.” Harry turned his head, kissing Draco with slow and heady movements.
Draco pulled away, calling his wand to his hand. Grinning smugly, he pointed it to Harry’s head and raised his brow. “I still owe you for last night, Potter.”
Harry rolled his eyes, far too tired to fight. “Whatever.” He was not surprised by the sleeping spell, although he did have time to wonder briefly if he was going to find himself stuck to the ceiling when he woke up.
There was a shirt resting by Harry’s face once he awoke. He was fairly certain it was a shirt anyways, the material silky and black. Now he could tell that his chest and stomach were exposed as they pressed down on the ground, he was fairly certain it was from lack of said shirt.
He did not feel quite right, very dizzy and tired. Underneath his sore muscles and bruised flesh he felt content. Warm… complete… His beast was purring like a sated kitten full of milk.
Harry became aware of a heaviness to the air, as if people were yelling… no, laughing…
Trying to see what was going on, he moved his bleary gaze from the black shirt and to the right. The faces of his oblivious Gryffindor classmates greeted him, chuckling about something. Considering where their faces were in relation to Harry, they were likely laughing at him.
Harry wasn’t certain exactly what Draco had done yet, but it seemed to involve him waking up face down and topless on the Gryffindor dining table.
It was breakfast time. Unable to wake him, his classmates had started eating around Harry’s prone form, laughing as they grabbed from serving plates he was strategically placed between.
Harry gave a great groan and tried to pick himself off the table, only to freeze, lips parting wide as he squeaked. He immediately fell back down, covered his mouth with his hands to keep from making a louder, needier noise, and tried to figure out if he knew for certain what a butt plug was supposed to feel like.
Warm heat was nuzzled between his cheeks, stretching him wide. Maddeningly, the moment he had become aware of it his body had started clutching around the intrusion in attempts to free it. But each squeeze tortuously revealed the size and thickness of the object and only seemed to spur the desire to tighten.
And each time he clenched he felt agonizing, aching pleasure.
“Watch the eggs, Harry,” Neville chided, trying to get a serving spoon full without Harry’s elbow getting in the way. “I like your pants, by the way. Although, you never seemed like the leather type.”
Eyes squeezed shut, trying to will his quickly growing erection away, Harry didn’t answer.
“Harry, you’re awake!” Ron cheered, leaning in front of his face, head resting on the table to make eye contact. “Your face is a mess. Do you have a hangover? I figured you had to be drunk to end up here… or to be chasing Malfoy, for that matter,” Ron added with a dark mutter.
Hermione had told Ron that since Draco was clearly not a Death Eater that Harry was more than allowed to spend time with the git. It had been a very displeasing conversation. “Here, let me help you up.” Ron offered, reaching across Harry’s shoulders to lift his friend.
“No!” Harry gave a weak yelp, twisting from the helping hands only bringing back the very delicious sensation of something quite large and thick buried in his ass. He was going to kill Draco. Fucking kill him.
“My, uh… wand?” Harry inquired his voice way too high pitched while Ron stared at him confused. After a moment, Ron handed it over, having found it on Harry’s back.
Harry quietly whispered a concealing charm on the front of his pants. It did nothing for the feel of his aching arousal, but it would stop everyone in the bloody Great Hall from seeing it, which was most important. Harry again tried to push himself up, only to fall back down and bite his hand to keep from crying out as the butt plug moved inside him. Fucking Malfoy!
Glaring daggers, Harry turned his head and sought out where Draco usually sat. The sexy prat was in his normal seat, head resting on his hand while he leisurely watched him from across the room. Noticing Harry’s glower, Draco raised his middle finger and then licked up it slowly.
“Fucking ferret,” Harry muttered hotly, trying and failing to not respond to the boy’s pink tongue moving lewdly. Slowly and deliberately, Harry rolled himself towards the edge of the table, regretting it the moment he was on his back and his ass was pressing against the wood and driving the plug in deeper. Palm firmly between his teeth, he shimmied down the edge and tried his best not to bend in any way.
“Harry, are you okay? Did you hurt your back, or something?” Hermione looked genuinely concerned, taking in his face covered in four horizontal slashes filled with dry blood, a very large dark bruise on his neck streaked with more dried blood, and smaller marks and bruises all over his flesh. She paused, eyes drawn back to Harry’s throat. “Harry… did you and Malfoy…?”
“Don’t say it, Mione,” Ron broke in, his face green. “As long as no one says it, I can pretend it didn’t happen.”
Seamus laughed. “Oh, it happened. Look at his neck.” He pointed to Harry’s bite. “Our lil Harry is officially claimed, and likely shagged too.”
Harry ignored the three of them, his entire focus on the very thick item inserted in his ass as he tried not to sway on his feet. Draco was staring intently, eyes blazing in smug satisfaction. Harry also noticed that the boy’s pale face was flushed with desire.
“Sweet pants,” Seamus quipped, putting down his pumpkin juice to boldly run a hand across Harry’s thigh. “Your boyfriend has good taste.”
Harry frowned down, noticing for the first time that he was in form fitting black leather pants and heavy dragon hide boots. He slapped away the hands of his classmates that suddenly thought it was okay to paw him, whirling on Dean when he pinched him cheekily. Harry scowled, once again seeking Draco’s face out of the crowd and pointing to the pants. Draco just wagged his eyebrows suggestively and then tilted his head towards the shirt still on the table.
Reaching as carefully as he could, because every movement Harry made was excruciating torment to his backside, he snagged the shirt and looked it over. The silky material was stretchy, and when he threw it on he found it clung to his muscles and chest like a second skin. Hardly appropriate for school but certainly fun for a different occasion. Harry sent Draco a heated glare and slowly tried to make his escape.
Each step was aching, panting hell, and Harry vowed he would hex the little bastard into next year. If he ever made it out of the Great Hall. Suddenly his classmates were surrounding him and Harry sighed, realizing it was time for first period. There was no way in fuck he was going to Defense Against the Dark Arts like this.
“You all right there, Potter?” Draco was waiting at the Great Hall doors, easily ahead of Harry given the Gryffindor was taking small measured steps and biting his palm with each movement.
“I’m going… to fucking… kill you,” Harry grunted between steps, glaring down Draco’s smirking face.
“You’ll have to catch me first. And I just don’t see that happening.” Draco gave Harry a long, assessing stare, his hand twitching to touch the Gryffindor’s tight ass in the buttery leather pants. Harry looked fucking sexy. “I have to know; is it a snug fit?”
Harry growled, well aware Draco was not talking about the clothes, only making the blond’s smile wider when the Slytherin added, “Because I can adjust it if its not.”
Harry narrowed on Draco’s right hand, fingers casually twirling his wand. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
“Harry. Come on, you’re blocking the—” Hermione back peddled before she could trip over Harry, who suddenly fell to his knees, head bowed, hand wedged between his teeth. Ron grabbed her shoulders to keep her from falling, glaring at Draco who had stalked forward.
Eyes squeezed shut, Harry tried to pull above the absolute agony as the thickness inside him grew, spreading his channel wider and lodging in deep. Fuck… he was so hard. He could barely sense the rest of the world around him, everything focused on the mind numbing, excruciating ache.
“Potter, have you explained to your friends what this means?” Draco drawled, slowly running his fingers over the mark on Harry’s throat. Harry’s neck and face were bright red, brows furrowed, mouth gasping around his hand. When he finally opened his eyes, craning back to see Draco, his green eyes were dark with lust, all defiance gone.
Forgetting himself, Draco stared down into Harry’s burning gaze, feeling light-headed. He ran his fingers over the ragged slashes on the brunette’s face, touching tenderly. Harry’s lids drooped and he pressed into his hand. Draco slowly extracted Harry’s hand from the death grip of white teeth, noting that he had drawn blood.
“We know what it means, Malfoy,” Ron snapped. “Now take this shit somewhere else. I have no interest in seeing you two…” He trailed off, unwilling to put the thought into actual words.
Draco ignored him, pressing his fingertips to Harry’s mouth, wet heat opening and red tongue flicking out to taste his soft pads. “Potter, I will see you third period.” He breathed out shakily, feeling Harry nip his fingertips. “Do try to behave.” Draco forced himself to step back, knowing if he didn’t soon he would lose his will to make Harry suffer a little longer.
Harry bit his lip, shaking his head lightly to clear the haze from his mind. Draco had disappeared down the hall, shrinking the plug back to previous size before mixing into the crowd. The loss of the Slytherin was strange, taking a lot of the heat away and leaving Harry feeling lonely.
Harry’s friends were staring down at him with a mixture of emotions, Seamus once again laughing raucously.
“Someone help me up, please? Uh, carefully,” Harry asked, reaching a hand out and letting Ron haul him up. He stood long moments, eyes closed while his body adjusted to the plug within.
“We’re going to be late,” Hermione reminded, eying Harry suspiciously. “Do you want us to drop you off at Madame Pomfrey’s? She can fix your back up in a jiff.”
Harry shook his head, moving gingerly. “I’ll go alone. I’ll meet you all in class.” Waiting for his friends to go ahead, Harry slowly made his way to the nearest loo so he could deal with his problem in peace.
Of course, the sodding butt plug would not come out. Harry had struggled with the blasted thing for fifteen minutes before giving in to a rough wank and bearable compromise. He had found a way to shrink it down to a near thin one inch diameter even though he couldn’t remove it. Harry prayed Draco had not used the same sticking charm that was currently holding the Slytherin sixth and seventh years to the castle walls.
Even small, the plug was a distracting nuisance. But at least now Harry could sit and bend without pain, or becoming achingly hard with a need to loudly vocalize it.
The next two classes went by in a hot blur, Harry sitting at his desk trying to ignore the occasional ache and clenching of his ass. Worst was the fact that everyone was looking at him. Not just because of the outrageous clothes Draco had dressed him in, or even the cuts and bruises. Rumor had gotten out about just who had put the bite on his neck, and everyone was whispering about it. And naturally, Harry’s dormmates had no problem gossiping with the curious Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws as if he wasn’t sitting right in front of them.
“Oh, you should have seen Malfoy. The little beast had Harry up against the wall… Actually, that was by the Great Hall, too. With Harry on his knees today, and on the wall yesterday, maybe they have a thing for food,” Seamus pondered to his Ravenclaw cohorts who were giving Harry lusty looks as their second period class let out.
Harry tried to ignore them, instead remembering that he hadn’t eaten breakfast because of how he had woken up. And then he had been so hard, the idea of adding food to the mix had been a stomach ache waiting to happen.
He stood up gingerly, deciding a quick snack was in order before third period and Care of Magical Creatures with Draco and that damned wand of his.
Harry was foot in the kitchens when he growled and turned around abruptly. He had a stopper firmly plugged to the ass end of his digestion system. Adding food to said system would not end well. Fucking Malfoy.
First stomping and then quickly realizing his mistake, Harry made his way down to the edge of the Forbidden Forest where his next class was.
Draco had waited until everyone was paired off and hunting for pixes through the forest before he made his next move. He had noticed Harry seeming just a little too comfortable with his new addition and Draco’s suspicions were raised when Harry caught sight of him through the trees and easily began taking large, angry steps to try and catch him.
Waving his wand, Draco smirked as Harry froze, groaned, and then lurched to his hands and knees in the dirt.
“Fuck… oh fuck… kill you,” Harry whimpered, chest heaving for air as he tried to adjust to the growing thickness deep within him. He had thought by now he would have gotten used to it but his body clearly disagreed, clenching and tightening around the overwhelming length.
“That’s what you get for cheating. You should have asked if you wanted it smaller,” Draco said, not unkindly as he sauntered up to Harry’s panting form. “Potter, have I mentioned how fucking hot you look? I didn’t want to embarrass you in front of your friends or I would have said it earlier.” He ran his palm over the back of Harry’s ass and the leather stretched there.
Harry gave a chocked laugh. “Embarrass?” He was crawling around with a butt plug and raging hard on, but heaven help if Draco complimented him.
Getting his point but not caring, Draco bent down and grabbed Harry’s hair, pulling the boy’s face up. “I’ll give you an option. You can spend the rest of your day with that very pretty new accessory or…” Draco paused, running his thumb slowly over Harry’s lips and spreading saliva there. “Or you can try and convince me otherwise. I remember you being quite good.”
Harry gave a low moan at the proposition, his tongue flicking out and tasting Draco’s skin.
“Well?” Draco pressed when Harry made no move except to gently nip his thumb between hard teeth.
“Okay.” Harry pushed himself off his arms, kneeling back with brows furrowed as his ass clenched from the change. Opening his eyes, he looked up at him hungrily. Draco tried not to melt in the gaze, something in Harry’s expression making his heart trip with more than just lust.
Refusing to think of it, Draco tightened his grip in Harry’s thick hair, rubbing his bulge against the boy’s cheek.
Harry closed his eyes, breathing Draco’s scent and feeling the rough fabric against his face. He slid his hands up the outside of the blond’s thighs, fanning fingers over his hips and then seeking out his fly. He pulled Draco’s pants aside slowly, watching his long erection spring forth, straining forward from knowing Harry had been aching and full since waking that day.
Harry kissed slowly, lips parted and yielding to Draco’s hot length. He tentatively ran his tongue up the side, taking his time and thoroughly tasting Draco.
Harry had rushed that night when Draco had been chained. He had been holding himself back, trying not to take too much from the Slytherin since Draco had not known who he was. Now Harry could savor the boy who had readily claimed him. Now he could show Draco what it would be like to be his… If the stubborn git would only submit to it.
“Oh… oh.” Draco watched, jaw slack and eyes wide as Harry’s mouth made love to his cock. His grip loosened on the brunette’s hair, letting his fingers feel the soft fringe tickle while Harry slowly kissed and licked.
Harry ran saliva coated lips over Draco’s length, making his way up to the sensitive tip and probing with his tongue for the sharp tang of precum at the very top. Slowly he opened his mouth wider to Draco’s thickness, lips yielding and tight around the head, and then pulling back off, leaving wet trails of fluid.
Draco’s knees felt weak, and he leaned forward, resting his hands on Harry’s shoulders. Harry gripped his hips steadily, keeping Draco from falling as he opened up to the boy’s long cock again, taking more in before pulling away.
“Oh… Harry, please,” Draco said breathlessly, lids slit open, head bowing down. Harry looked up at him, his eyes dark and lips flushed, chin dripping with saliva. He opened his mouth wide again, sliding lips over the side of Draco’s length and pressing his flat tongue in rough swipes, pulling soft, desperate sounds from the blond.
And then Harry was swallowing him down, Draco plunging deep into his hot throat.
“Fuck… What are you doing to me?” Draco muttered hoarsely, hands finding Harry’s head again and tangling his fingers in the silky strands. Harry answered by bobbing in long, drawn out movements, lips clenched snug and wet.
Draco shuddered when Harry looked up again, his heart tightening from some raw nameless emotion. He came with a low cry, his hips held still in a steel grip as he shot deep into Harry’s mouth. Harry held him there long moments, tasting cum and cock while Draco panted and gasped.
Pulling away reluctantly, Harry licked his lips and gently tucked Draco back in. He zipped him up and buttoned him tight, then grinned up at the blond’s dazed expression.
Draco was looking down at him still, eyes glazed as he trailed fingers over the healing cuts on Harry’s face. Harry’s smile faded and he swallowed heavily. He very much wanted to take Draco and show him the other ways it meant to belong to him.
Instead, Harry nipped at Draco’s fingertips, his eyebrows raised inquiringly. “Come on, prat. You promised.”
Draco nodded slowly, Harry’s voice raspy and delicious. He pulled his wand from his back pocket and twirled it idly. Something about Harry was making him crazy… Made him want to do terrible sweet things. It was an unsettling feeling and Draco thought maybe he wouldn’t let Harry blow him again if the Gryffindor was going to insist on being so romantic about it.
“Potter, push your pants down,” Draco finally said, focusing on Harry instead of the concerning thoughts in his head.
Harry did as he was told, unzipping the leather pants and pushing them down to his thighs, naked underneath, the material resisting and catching on his damp flesh. He was hard, his cock red and in need, something he planned on dealing with once the damn butt plug was finally removed.
Draco pushed him forward until Harry was on hands and knees and then traced his wand down the brunette’s lower back. Harry shivered from the sensation, Draco moving until his wand was centimeters from his stretched entrance. Then Harry sensed it, the wicked smirk Draco was sending his way right before the plug expanded.
Groaning, Harry braced himself, thighs spreading involuntarily, hips rocking forward. “Malfoy… you ass,” he grunted, Draco smacking him lightly on his tight backside.
“Don’t worry, you’ll like this,” Draco promised, tapping the plug in Harry’s entrance. The thick length began to move in and out of him in slow thrusts. Draco took a step back so he could watch as Harry thrashed.
Harry fell to his elbows, head resting on the ground, long desperate moans being pulled from his lips as he was fucked slowly and deeply. Draco knelt before him, pulling his head up to watch the delicious agony twist on Harry’s features.
“Oh, you like that, do you?” Draco murmured, kissing Harry’s cheek as the boy gasped and shuddered. “How do you like it, Potter? Hard… fast… deep? Tell me what you like.”
Harry moaned, far too overcome to speak. Draco wasn’t daunted, licking a tear from Harry’s face as the boy became unhinged. “I think you’re a bit of a romantic. I think you like things slow… and big.” Draco tapped his wand again, adding another half an inch to the thickness taking Harry slowly.
Harry cried out, sobbing from the consuming, overwhelming ache of being so full. Draco held his head and shoulders, supporting his weight as the brunette’s hips bucked in rhythm to the movements taking him.
“Fuck, Harry… my gods.” Draco stared at him, eyes wide as Harry took it all in and quaked. The boy was so fucking beautiful… so fucking raw, and honest, and beautiful… Draco wanted him so badly. Needed him. If only Harry would stop being so stubborn and just claim him already. Instead of insisting he admit to the feelings welling in him unbearably.
Draco surged forward and kissed Harry’s gasping mouth, unable to watch any more. Harry’s kisses were uncoordinated and sloppy, the boy’s body exhausted and trembling from the plug plunging inside him. Draco didn’t care, moving his tongue over Harry’s jaw, down his neck to the mark blazing on his throat.
“That’s it, Harry. Take it all in… You can do it.” Draco added another inch to the length, feeling Harry shudder when he felt it shift and hit deeper. “That’s it.”
“Can’t… uhn.” Harry’s arms gave way and he fell forward across Draco’s lap, face gasping in the dirt and the grass as the plug began to increase in speed. “Dra…co.”
Draco bit his lower lip, hand reaching out to gently touch the flesh stretched wide between Harry’s tensed cheeks. The plug had small ridges, forcing the flesh to contract and stretch repeatedly as it plunged in and out of the moaning boy. Draco slid his hand behind the aching hole, finding Harry’s balls and squeezing lightly.
“Do you want more, Harry?” Draco turned to where his face rested, dirt smearing the brunette’s face and lips. “Tell me what you want.”
Harry moaned, rubbing his forehead against the grass in absolute agony. His chest, neck, and face were flushed deep red, and his chest was heaving wildly. “Please,” Harry choked out and then bit his palm until it bled.
Licking his lips slowly, Draco reached beneath Harry’s rocking hips and sought out his thick, leaking arousal. Harry howled at the first touch and Draco smirked, tightening his fingers around his straining cock. He pushed his palm to the tip, giving Harry something to thrust into while the boy bucked against the thickness fucking him.
Draco watched Harry’s face, seeing the moment an instant before and at the same time feeling it against his fingers as Harry finally gave in and came. Draco stilled and shrunk the plug immediately, knowing the agony it could cause if left in after orgasm, and let Harry moan into the dirt, seed spurting into Draco’s hand.
“My gods… you are so…” Draco trailed off, unwilling to voice just what he thought of Harry just yet. He carefully removed the plug from his ass, spelled it clean, and tucked it away. Harry was groaning softly, head still lolling mindlessly. Pulling his leather pants up trembling legs, Draco gently moved his legs from beneath Harry’s hips and rolled the boy over.
Fuck, but he was beautiful. Even with the dirt, saliva, and sweat. Draco kissed Harry deeply, tangling into his sweaty locks and tugging until Harry responded. Then he pulled back, wiping some of the dirt off of his face as green eyes blinked up at him. “Next time you find me tied up and nude and I tell you to fuck me, you better fucking fuck me. Got it, Potter?”
Harry nodded after a long moment, lips twitching. Staring thoughtfully, Draco stood up, running a hand through his hair. With a backwards glance to Harry, he walked away with hands in his pockets, not bothering to say goodbye.
Draco skipped the rest of his classes that day, feeling depressed and confused. He hid himself away in the Slytherin seventh year dorm, all his other dormmates currently indisposed of around the castle ceilings and leaving him to the room alone. Draco used the extra space to brood.
Finding, fucking, and claiming the boy that had caught him while blindfolded had seemed like an extremely good idea at the time. Draco’s beast had been very insistent upon just how good an idea it was. But the boy had turned out to be Harry. And Draco had problems with Harry.
Two years ago, moments before his beast had woken up, Draco had realized he wanted Harry. And he had attempted to beat the boy’s skull in because of it.
Slytherin had lost to Ravenclaw and Harry had been laughing to the Ravenclaw seeker like an ass. Then Harry had glanced at Draco, green eyes bright with hidden thoughts, and Draco’s heart had flipped. The bastard had been breathtakingly beautiful.
When Harry commented on how Draco probably would have caught the snitch if not for the elbow to his face, Draco had snapped and tried to throttle him.
Draco’s beast had woken up in that moment with him staring down as Harry blinked up in surprise to find himself pinned by the furious Slytherin. And then Harry had licked his lips, and Draco saw the dark shift in the green eyes, the low demanding call to come to him and stay forever.
Startled and confused, not only by the new vicious presence in his head, but of also finding one in Harry, Draco had rolled off, stood, and gotten the fuck out of there. He had spent weeks thinking and learning how to deal with the beast within, and small, quiet moments rare and far between wondering about the one in Harry.
Draco had done a very good job in forgetting what he had felt for Harry, repressing until he didn’t have to worry about falling for the fucking Golden Boy. And if he had indulged in some harmless staring, maybe even flirting during Potions class, it was hardly a damning offense. Potter never seemed to notice, never seemed to have a beast to respond back. But as much as Draco had run from his feelings, his own damn beast had been determined to win.
Biting Harry had been wrong. It had been a mistake, one that Draco could not take back. Because now when Harry looked at him, he couldn’t help but respond. He couldn’t hide from Harry anymore. He couldn’t hide from himself anymore. It was terrible.
Draco awoke deep in the night to find Harry standing over him in the dim torchlight. He had not bothered to shut his bed curtains, allowing Harry an unobstructed view of him topless in pajama bottoms where Draco had fallen asleep while reading. Dully, he wondered what time it was. That was, until Harry shifted and pulled his shirt over his head and threw it to the ground.
Green eyes regarding him heatedly, Harry kicked off the boots Draco had lent him, and then removed his pants. Draco pushed up to his elbows, watching the boy strip. Still not speaking, Harry crawled down the mattress, hands bracing on either side of the blond’s prone form. Reading him for long moments, Harry dipped his head and kissed Draco gently.
Eyes fluttering shut, Draco pressed back, opening to the touch of Harry’s tongue. Harry pushed him back onto his pillow, kissing deeply, slowly, until Draco felt heavy and out of breath.
Harry ran rough hands down his sides, running underneath his pajamas and rubbing softly over his ass and thighs. When he tugged at his waistband, Draco lifted his hips, allowing Harry to move down his body and take his pants off.
Harry knelt, staring down at Draco as the pale boy softly panted. He ran fingertips over the blond’s flat stomach, and then bent, dragging his tongue down to the dip, and plunging into his bellybutton. Draco squirmed, moaning softly.
Harry’s hands moved to the back of him, fingers gently probing his entrance. Draco raised a knee, turning his hips to the side to give better access as Harry began to stretch him. Unhurriedly, Harry twisted fingers into the boy’s hot hole, nipping at Draco’s stomach and chest while he did.
Harry ran his palm up and down the thigh Draco had raised, eventually pressing and urging the boy over onto his stomach. Draco settled carefully, erection pressed hard into the mattress as Harry breathed hot breath over the dip in his lower back and down to his pert behind.
Draco gasped, Harry’s tongue roughly licking down the crack of his ass, teasing into the recess and moving towards his entrance. Draco bit his wrist, trying to stop his low keening wail when Harry finally made it to his prize and languidly probed his entrance.
Harry steadied the blond’s hips as the boy spasmed. He pressed his tongue into Draco’s tightness, tasting his mate, recognizing and meeting him all at once. He soothed fingers over his hips while laving down to Draco’s balls and then back up to delve into his entrance and taste again. He stayed their long minutes, stroking inside the blond, feeling Draco clench and shake with each touch and driving thrust.
Sighing, Harry released him and pushed himself up. Slowly he lowered his weight on top of Draco’s lithe form, nuzzling into his neck and licking. Harry frowned, becoming aware of wetness on his cheek where he was kissing the blond’s jaw. The beautiful gray eyes were full of tears, few spilling free as Draco gasped in need.
Harry kissed him again, burning and passionate until the boy was moaning. Pulling away, Harry shifted his hips, guiding his cock to Draco’s entrance and slowly sinking in. Draco opened to him readily, more tears spilling free as his eyes squeezed shut from the feel of being filled by Harry.
They rocked slowly together, Harry moving slickly through Draco’s passage in long, gentle thrusts. Harry’s weight crushed down on him, the sheets caressing Draco’s skin. He moaned lowly, mouth wide in delicious agony as Harry took him slowly and completely.
Lips resting on Draco’s turned cheek, Harry finally spoke, his voice a low murmur of desire. “Are you ready to tell me, Draco?”
Tongue flicking thoughtfully, Draco slowly shook his head. “Not yet.”
Harry smiled against the boy’s skin, knowing he was winning the Slytherin. Harry had waited three years. He could wait a little longer.
Grabbing one of the pillows scattered at the head of the bed, Harry lifted Draco’s hips and settled it beneath them. Draco spread his thighs, knees pressing into the bed as he pushed back into Harry’s heavy thrusts.
He ran his hands over Draco’s sweat soaked skin, palms pressing firmly everywhere he reached as he slowly and sensually pumped into the boy’s clenching body. Draco’s cries were getting louder, more insistent, but Harry would not increase his speed from the languid, burning pace. He wanted Draco to remember how it felt, know what it would be like if he only gave in that last bit.
Hands fisting the sheets above him, Draco stretched his body, pushing back against Harry’s thighs, trying to bury the boy deep and keep him there while Harry tried to pull out. Harry pressed forward into the gripping heat, Draco taking the weight as he pushed back, his orgasm nearing.
Hanging at the edge, back arched, thighs and ass clenched unbelievably tight, Draco felt Harry come, jetting into him as his hips bucked. Crying out, Draco’s orgasm tore through him, stealing his breath as his cum spilled onto his pillow.
Harry fell against him, sweaty and sated. Still embedded deep in Draco, he settled and closed his eyes. Draco didn’t complain, the heat and feel of Harry’s flesh very welcome as he gasped for breath.
He wanted Harry to bite him. Wanted the boy to claim him properly. And in that moment, that idea wasn’t so bad to Draco.
Maybe tomorrow… Maybe.
Draco woke alone in his bed, trying to figure out if it had all been a dream. Faintly he thought he smelled Harry in his sheets… Hand straying down and behind, he probed softly, feeling the boy’s seed dripping still warm from his body heat. Draco gave a shattered moan and closed his eyes.
Breathing deeply, he wondered if he would ever find his sanity again.
He got up, realizing that he was late for breakfast and very hungry. Draco showered quickly, pausing when he considered what to wear. Maybe something Harry might appreciate… like well fitting torn jeans and a tight tee. Instead of pushing his hair back, Draco let it fan around his face and neck, remembering how Harry had liked to run his hands through the strand while they had been drifting to sleep.
Draco grabbed his bookbag and made his way to breakfast. The Great Hall was full, students getting in their meal and talking about their weekend plans before Friday classes started. Draco sat in his normal seat, now quite spacious with the six and seventh year Slytherins still incapacitated.
He glared up at his classmates stuck above, the four still looking very uncomfortable in their upside down perch. The beast rose up in him at the sight, still full of hot hatred for the group that would have left him for dead. Draco knew they felt far worse then they looked, and he was glad for it.
Reaching for some kipper, Draco glanced up as Harry sat down across from him at the table. Eyes straying over the gorgeous boy for long moments, Draco resumed filling his plate, determined to eat before breakfast was over and not think about how last night had left him feeling strange and weak.
Harry gave a small yawn, resting his head in his hands and staring blankly down at the table. He had not slept much, not that night or the one before. Looking up at Draco’s hands as the blond spooned food onto his plate, Harry didn’t have any objections. Not for his tiredness, or bruises, or rather sore backside. He was feeling pretty damn good, all things considered.
Draco’s prank had been torturous but unexpectedly arousing. And at the end, when Draco had basically fucked him with his magic, Harry was certain that there was nothing quite so damn maddening. Except… maybe Draco’s long length, hard and driving into him.
His beast certainly didn’t have a problem with the idea, also surprising to Harry. But Draco’s bite had done something to the creature. Had snared it and collared it, and although it still enjoyed the hunt, it thought being prey had a thrill to it as well. Anyways, it all ended in hot fluids being spilled.
Eyes downcast as Harry mused these thoughts around in his head, he waited silently for Draco to finish eating. The other students moved from the hall in groups as the time for first period approached. Harry waved to his friends briefly but made no move to leave when they rambled by.
Draco finished his breakfast, sipping on a glass of juice to wash it down. Harry looked tired… and maybe a little solemn. He reached across, touching the cuts on the brunette’s face. Harry opened his eyes slowly, staring.
“I’m going to have to heal them today,” Harry said. “I have to take care of some stuff at Gringotts this weekend. I thought maybe you’d want to charm your handiwork?”
Draco nodded, feeling a small sinking in his stomach at the realization that Harry would not be around for the weekend. He took his wand out, carefully knitting the flesh back together until no signs remained of the slashes he had made.
Harry caught Draco’s hand when the boy turned his aim to the bite on his neck. “Leave it. That one stays.” He kissed his pale fingers, rubbing his cheek against them and sending butterflies through Draco’s stomach that he tried to squelch. “Ready?”
Heart in his throat, Draco nodded again, extracting his hand from Harry’s warm grasp. They got up, taking bags and books with them, and walked down their respective sides of the table until reaching the end.
Now that he could reach, Harry grabbed Draco, kissing him hard, stepping into him until they were crushed together. Caught off guard, Draco dropped his bag and wrapped his fingers in Harry’s hair, kissing back hot and desperate, not realizing how much he had wanted to until that moment. Then he pushed Harry back and stepped away, trying to regain his senses as the last of the students left the Great Hall.
Harry glared at him, panting while he ran his fingers over where Draco had bit his lip moments ago. He reached, trying to capture Draco’s arm and pull him back. But the blond slipped away, ducking for his bag and turning towards the door. Harry followed quickly, walking beside him, eyes straying over the boy distractedly. He touched Draco’s shining white blond hair, flowing silky and loose for a change. “You look nice. You hardly ever wear jeans.”
Draco nodded, eyes flicking to Harry’s possessive gaze and quickly looking away. “Well, you know my family. Have to keep up appearances, and that rot.” His step faltered as Harry wrapped an arm around his shoulder, but that seemed to be all the boy was going to do, so he kept walking.
Their classmates were waiting in front of the door to the potions classroom, Snape still hidden away until first period officially started. Harry didn’t remove his arm from Draco once reaching his friends, and Draco didn’t really want the touch to stop, so he kept quiet about it.
Alone with Harry, things seemed slow and heady. But with other people, the world sort of sped up and got loud, much to Draco’s annoyance. The bouncing Finnigan could have had something to do with it.
“Harry, perfect, we were trying to figure out something.” Seamus welcomed them over, moving aside so Hermione and Ron could see as well.
Harry pulled his gaze reluctantly away from Draco’s bowed head. “Hmm? What’s that?”
“Seamus, stop. It’s rude,” Hermione broke in, glaring at the boy. “I’m sure they have a perfectly good reason…” She blushed as Harry turned his gaze to her. “Ignore him. It’s no one’s business but your own.”
Harry raised his brows at that, wondering if somehow someone might have figured out the hell he had been through yesterday with Draco’s butt plug prank. Draco didn’t look particularly malicious though, which would be expected right before walking into a Malfoy style ambush. “What?”
Hermione sighed and Ron glowered and crossed his arms over his chest. “They want to know more about the bite,” Ron muttered.
Seamus nodded. “The mark. We were wondering why Malfoy didn’t have one.”
“Ah.” Harry clicked his mouth shut, really not sure if he wanted to explain why he hadn’t bitten Draco. Draco distracted him from the issue, huffing and pulling out from underneath Harry’s arm.
“Because the stubborn git has a conscience,” Draco said with a scowl, clearly not pleased about the subject. Harry went to hold the boy again, but Draco was having none of it, his anger raised at the memory of their first encounter when Harry had refuse to fuck and claim him when the opportunity had been given.
What the hell did that mean of him, biting Harry even while his higher functioning mind had known it was a stupid mistake to get caught up with the Golden Boy? Fucking Harry and his fucking self control and scruples.
“Seamus, drop it,” Hermione ordered, seeing Draco’s annoyance and how Harry was acting in response. “Like I said, its not our business.”
“I know, I just wanted to know what it means when only one is marked,” Seamus said curiously. “I thought a mated pair of beasts had matching marks. Not that you see many beast much these days.”
“They do,” Harry said carefully, watching Draco stiffen at the words. “But just because some of us have very strong instincts, it doesn’t mean we feel comfortable giving in… At least, not until certain things are known.”
Draco looked about ready to hex Harry across the hallway. “And some people are just so fucking repressed, they don’t know to stop fighting and just accept the situation for what it is.” He looked Harry up and down, huffed in disdain, and then turned to Seamus. “Finnigan, you want to know what it means when only one is marked? To the beast it means that its chosen just doesn’t give a fuck. It won’t protect its mate, won’t defend its territory, and certainly won’t fight off any potential suitors. Its a clear sign that the relationship is one sided and doomed.”
Harry sighed in exasperation. “No it’s not. Not really.”
Draco raised a brow, anger crackling underneath his calm exterior. “Really? How about you have a chat with your beast and see what it thinks about it.”
Rolling his eyes, Harry stood long moments, his expression slowly growing grimmer as the seconds ticked by.
“Well?” Draco pressed, hands on his hips.
“My beast thinks that you’re a willful, vicious pain in the ass.” Harry held his hand up to stop Draco from retorting. “And to capture one as powerful and enthralling as you, it has chosen to use cunning instead of brute force. Because it knows, as well as you and your beast, that for a claiming to actually work, the stubborn prat human mind has to fucking give in.”
Harry was glowering, head held high and eyes in slits as he turned towards the classroom door that had finally opened. Snape gave them all a hard look as he sensed the tension in the air, and then stepped aside so the students could file in. “The final steps of your potions are at hand. Instructions are on the desk if you have questions. I will be in Lab 2.” He did not disappear right away this time, narrowing his eyes on Harry and the mark on his throat.
Harry didn’t feel like dealing with a snapping Snape, so he stepped into the room quickly and started going through his notes.
Draco was such a stubborn ass. All the time really, so Harry had no idea why he let the boy get to him anymore. But he couldn’t stop himself, like little fire ants stinging at his skin every time the sexy prat opened his mouth. It was either bicker with the boy, or shove something between the Slytherin’s very pink lips before he had a chance to say something snarky…
Harry paused at that thought, turning his gaze to Draco’s fuming form as he scribbled furiously on his notes. Draco looked nearly untidy with his hair free, wearing jeans and a band t-shirt. Sure, the fabric clung in very attractive ways, reminding Harry very well of what was under it all… But Draco looked sort of messy and that was damn hot. Almost rain, quidditch and mud hot.
Harry peered closer to see what Draco was writing, only to scowl at the lewd swears and Harry’s name filling in the margins. “Malfoy,” Harry growled. Draco stiffened but didn’t turn, writing another line about fucking coward Gryffindor beasts that don’t know how to fucking take what they want like proper.
Harry grinned then, dark and heated, and pressed into Draco’s back to whisper hot breath against his ear. “Is that what you want, Malfoy? Me to force you to submit?” Draco hissed, writing another line, this time about clueless fucks, and no fucking duh, shithead.
Harry nuzzled into Draco’s neck, the boy still tense and quite livid before him. “After you tell me that you’re mine, I will fucking take what I want, Draco. Whenever I want it. I have waited… Watching you watch me, want me, and hide from it at every turn. You will tell me. And it will be fucking loud when you do,” Harry promised, abruptly pulling away from Draco, who was swaying weakly on his feet, holding the desk for balance.
But Draco was still glaring, his eyes burning between anger and lust, and Harry knew just how long that fire could last in the stubborn, beautiful boy. Anger was Draco’s first and favorite weapon of choice, his defender and protector from everything that made him feel overwhelmed and uncomfortable. Unfortunately, a lot of that was currently Harry and all those many feelings he was certain Draco was still running from.
If Harry was going to get through to Draco, he knew he had to get around that anger. He had to strike when Draco was unsuspecting and calm, not bristling and murderous. That’s why he had went to Draco last night, waking the boy from sleep. And that’s why Harry would wait long days until he touched Draco again, until the Slytherin was lost and aching for him.
As much as Harry knew Draco’s anger, he knew the boy’s lust. It would not take long to bend the blond to him. That was another problem. Because as Draco made sure their potion didn’t turn to a smoldering evaporated mess of cauldron, along with their combined grade, Harry couldn’t help staring and wanting to take the stubborn git. Draco was peering down, biting his lip in concentration as hazy steam rose up from their cauldron. Hair fluttering around him, the boy looked rather angelic.
Maybe he would fuck him over by the bookcase on the wall, where he would be able to position Draco to just the right height and the blond would have something sturdy to grab onto…
“Potter, get your hand off my ass,” Draco hissed lowly, glaring around to see if any of the Gryffindor students had noticed. They had, bloody observant wankers. Draco swatted at the damn nuisance that was Harry Potter, only to have the brunette step up, now both hands tight on his jean clad behind as he pressed into him boldly.
Shit. Fire was quickly tingling through Draco, tightening his muscles under Harry’s hands, his breath quickening and body very much responding.
“Seriously, you two. Have some consideration,” Ron muttered. “This class is difficult enough without me being sick.”
Draco glared, annoyed to have been interrupted by Weasley. Even though moments ago he had been adamant that if Harry so much as looked towards him he was going to hex the bloody bastard… Pushing the thought from his mind, he glanced back at Harry’s bowed head, green eyes looking particularly steamy. “You all are pretty rubbish at potions. Well, except Thomas and Granger.”
“Yes, we are. Maybe you should have thought of that before cursing all your housemates,” Neville spoke up with a sigh. Pansy had been a right mean bitch, but she had been determined to make sure they passed.
Draco shrugged, not feeling particularly sorry. The Slytherins had deserved it, and to be honest, now that his housemates weren’t cursing and hexing the Gryffindors’ potions whenever they got a chance, the group was improving. Even Longbottom. But that thought was short lived, Harry’s hands suddenly deciding that holding wasn’t enough, and began rubbing Draco’s ass.
“Potter, this is not my thing,” Draco stressed as he was pushed forward, thighs hitting the desk. He was very much annoyed to be touched in front of anyone, never mind a room full of Gryffindors that didn’t even have the courtesy to look away while Harry pawed at him. “Wait till lunch, or something…” he trailed off, Harry’s hands moving to his hips and pulling him back so he could feel how Harry was hard and didn’t want to wait.
Harry breathed against his neck, watching the soft bright strands move with each puff. “No one cares, Malfoy,” he murmured, slowly grinding against Draco’s ass as the Slytherin tried to keep from making that moan Harry liked to hear so much. Shaking his head, Draco tried to push him away since he couldn’t move forward. It did not have the effect he had hoped for, Harry’s grip and energy raising in intensity as the blond bucked against him.
“Potter, you fucking waste… let me go…” Draco snarled, but Harry had his mouth on the back of his neck, teeth biting, tongue laving, and it was getting very difficult to pull out of the heat. Maybe it had to do with the cauldrons shimmering, turning the air a steamy purple color…
Draco closed his eyes, his head bent down as he gripped the desktop and tried not to give in. All Harry was doing was rubbing against him. It wasn’t like he was spread out over the desk or anything. He could resist this… had to… He was fucking surrounded by Gryffindors!
“Potter, I am going to count to five. If you are not off me by then, I am going to hex you. Do you understand?” Draco bit out.
Harry, of course, responded by running hands down the front of Draco’s soft cotton tee, and then his jeans and pausing at the boy’s growing bulge. “Try it. Let’s see what happens,” Harry challenged, not caring in the slightest that he had told himself only minutes ago that he wanted to avoid getting Draco angry. Draco was fucking hot when he was angry. Why wouldn’t he want to annoy the sexy prat until he started hexing?
Draco had started counting, only to get lost at three, trying to remember if he had said four yet or not. Harry was moving slowly, achingly slow, and it was reminding him of that crazed, suffocating dream of last night where the Gryffindor had been so gentle… so very, very thorough… his tongue driving and persuasive inside him and… oh…
“Four, Malfoy. It comes after three,” Harry encouraged, his mouth wide and sucking on the flesh beneath Draco’s ear.
Draco inhaled sharply, Harry rubbing particularly hard while finding the edge of his shirt and slipping under. “I’m going to kill you,” Draco groaned, his legs spreading, hips moving with Harry’s persistent grinding.
“Not if you don’t get to five,” Harry teased, fingers now fiddling with Draco’s waistband. “If you only knew how you looked.” Harry’s voice had become very hoarse, a soft, broken moan trying to pull free that he buried against the blond’s throat.
And Draco had to wonder blearily just how the two of them did look, with Harry trapping him, tanned hands moving over his pale flesh while their hips kept forever rocking. The mental image made him arch, body lengthening and bowing back as Harry ran strong hands over him. Then Draco caught sight of the other occupants again and remembered they were not even remotely alone.
This was so not okay. Draco shook his head and then made a fist, his claws biting into his palms until blood trickled. He reached for his beast, more than enough sex energy moving through him to call it loud and strong. “Five,” He announced with wet lips, right before reaching up and behind him, grabbing Harry’s chest and shoulders, and hauling the boy over his back and head, and throwing him across the large room.
Harry, the bloody coordinated bastard, rolled and landed in a simple crouch on the ground, managing not to hit the wall, or desks, or cauldrons. It was actually quite an accomplishment, which Draco admired quietly as Harry stood, power raising with the explosive Gryffindor.
If Draco didn’t know better, he’d say Harry had liked his show of strength. A lot.
“Nope, this is actually worse,” Ron muttered in exasperation, trying to put himself between Harry and his precarious grade. “Do not fight in here. These cauldrons are sensitive.”
Harry was grinning, staring Draco down and ignoring the wands suddenly pointed his way in defense. But Draco noticed them and he turned to stare incredulously at Harry’s housemates. “What, you’re going to curse your Golden Boy?”
Hermione snorted, stepping forward towards Harry. “If you knew the stuff Harry gets up to when mad like this, you would understand. Nearly had to kill him after you first woke up, the way his beast was raging over you. He asks us to, just to keep him from destroying the castle.”
Draco raised a brow at that, turning to look Harry up and down. “Now who’s the one in control, hmm Potter?” He taunted, Harry always so damn smug about his power over his instincts.
Harry didn’t even have the grace to look embarrassed, his grin widening to manic. “Mione, he’s not talking,” Ron pressed, eyebrows raising and head tilting to get the girl to do her thing. But Hermione hesitated, looking instead to Draco. “Malfoy, can you fix him? You are his… well… mate, and all.”
Draco again ran his eyes over Harry, taking in his tensed muscles, clawed fingers and very prominent erection. Draco could do something… but fix? He delved deep, talking to his beast.
The beast didn’t think Harry needed fixing either. Just a good, hard fuck.
Eyes glazed for a moment, Draco slowly refocused on Harry, who looked about ready to hunt him down and maim him. If he did, Draco was certain he would enjoy the experience. “Come on, Potter. You’re freaking your friends out.” Draco walked slowly to the classroom door, eyes never leaving Harry as the boy continued to stare. “Hurry now, before I get away.”
With a wicked grin, Draco slipped out the door and started walking down the hall.
Draco heard Harry crash through the bathroom door, not bothering to turn as the boy strode up behind him and breathed down his neck.
It was amazing to think all the time they were suddenly spending together, and yet still couldn’t make it through a full conversation about anything. Last week they had been flirting, and laughing, and even talking about quidditch and school during their potions partner work. Not that Draco had much to say at the moment. Just that he was becoming concerned that if he felt sex starved and lust driven every time he saw Harry, it might become, well, exhausting.
A good exhausting, he thought as Harry gripped his shoulders tightly, but maybe a bit boring after a while. He would have to work on expanding their interactions a bit… Later. Much later.
He turned in the grasp, noticing the brunette looked almost sweet without Draco’s slashes on his face. Harry was staring at the blond’s hands, looking at them in awe. Draco raised them, watching as Harry’s eyes followed, and then his hands, tentatively brushing fingers to fingers.
“Draco… You threw me across the room.” Harry’s voice was rough, eyes hazy like a summer day in the forest.
“Yes, you did seem to like that.” Draco watched Harry’s face as the Gryffindor continued to play with his hands, fingers caressing and then biting in, only to jump back and sooth over again.
“You’re strong,” Harry whispered, dragging his gaze up to Draco’s. “When you bit me, I could feel how strong… how powerful.” Harry swallowed, fingers twining with Draco’s as he held himself still.
“Do you want me to show you how strong I am?” Draco asked, stepping forward and tightening his grip on Harry’s hands.
“Yes,” Harry breathed out, eyes wide and lips parted.
Draco stared long moments. Harry’s expression was similar to right after Draco had claimed him and very reminiscent of only yesterday, Harry’s face streaked with dirt and sweat, and rubbing against the grass. Fuck.
The gorgeous idiot was going to drive him crazy.
Draco released his hands and stepped forward, pushing Harry back and stumbling across the room and up against the door. Draco followed, locked the door with a loud click, then pushed Harry’s wrists up on either side of his head. Harry was grinning crookedly, face flushed as he stared intently at Draco’s mouth, waiting for a kiss. The expression was very sweet, annoyingly so.
Why couldn’t Potter just stick to the whole angry, forceful fucking, and stop trying to be romantic? Draco didn’t want romance. He didn’t want softness, and sweetness, and to feel the damn ache that kept twisting in his heart every time Harry looked just so at him.
Growling, he grabbed Harry by the shoulders, pulled him forward, and then slammed him back into the door. Harry hissed, glaring back. But still he smiled that sweet way and Draco grabbed the boy by his biceps and lifted Harry, pushing him up while the brunette stared down at him in surprise.
“Fuck,” Harry grunted, fairly certain Draco was angry at him when the boy, still holding him high in the air, turned and threw him. Harry narrowly missed crashing into the sinks, but his hands and face hit the mirrored wall and cracked the glass, leaving a bleeding wound on his cheek and raw sting to his palms.
Harry carefully straightened and turned, taking in Draco’s burning eyes and dark grin. Yup, Draco was fucking pissed, the boy’s energy pulsing in large cresting waves. And yes, he looked damn fucking sexy when he was angry.
“What’s wrong, Malfoy? Rather be back in class?” Harry taunted, taking a step forward and pushing back against Draco’s magical aura that was filling the room. Draco seemed to like that, Harry coming at him, and he took another step, and then another, straining against the pressure until he was face to face with the glaring blond.
Draco grabbed the side of Harry’s face and dug his thumb into the cut there. Harry clasped unyielding fingers on his wrist, pulling the hand away and glaring back into the angry silver eyes. “You’ve mussed your hair,” Harry pointed out, using his free hand to take a chunk of the white blond locks and twist.
Draco laughed harshly in the hold and then pushed Harry hard, once again sending the boy backwards across the room. Draco’s head stung where Harry had nearly taken his hair with him but he didn’t care, stalking forward, turning Harry and slamming him face first into the mirrored wall.
Dazed, it took Harry a moment to notice that the hands pushing him forward were pulling at his pants, roughly fighting with the clasp to his jeans and tearing at his fly. Harry glared blearily into the mirror, finding Draco with a vicious grin on his face as he stared at him and tore his pants down.
Then Draco was pushing against him, his rough jeans and bulge rubbing against Harry’s bare ass. Harry moaned, enjoying how Draco seemed to suffocate him with his scent and heat, arms wrapping around him and claws digging in where they chose.
“You want me to fuck you.” It was more a statement than a question, but Harry nodded anyways, just to make sure Draco wouldn’t think to stop. “Good, Potter, cus I’m going to fuck you.” Draco slammed his shoulders into the wall, pulling another groan from Harry.
Harry licked his lips, a slick rush of magic moving inside him where Draco was pressing his wand to his entrance. He wondered if that was how Draco had gotten the butt plug in yesterday, only to cry out, knees suddenly failing him, when Draco pressed his cock against his entrance and surged forward.
“Oh gods… could’ve… fucking… warned…” Harry trailed off, Draco’s length forcing its way in, widening his channel and stealing his breath. It was as intense as the butt plug, even more so because Draco gave him no time to adjust. It didn’t tear him—the spell had prevented that—but the size and thickness was absolutely overwhelming.
Draco fucked Harry like he fought, unbridled, and brutal, and fucking owning him. And Harry pushed back as he took it, trying to gain some sort of leverage against the glass, seeking out Draco’s face close beside him. Draco caught the gaze, holding it as he snarled at Harry.
Harry wasn’t quite sure what the hell Draco was so angry about, but it felt fucking fantastic.
Hands tightening on his hips, Draco pulled Harry’s off of the wall, spreading the boy’s shaking legs wide and forcing him to stand without support. Harry moved his arms above, grabbing at Draco’s neck and shoulder for something to hold to. Draco grabbed Harry’s hair, forcing him to stare at himself in the mirror while he continued to slowly thrust into the boy.
“You look like a right slut, Potter.” Draco pulled at Harry’s shirt, pushing it up to show off Harry’s straining erection. He didn’t touch it, just allowed Harry to see how hard and red he was while Draco filled him. And Harry had to agree, his face terribly flushed, eyes dazed and streaking tears, and mouth very wide open as he moaned and panted.
“Draco… please.” Harry could barely stand, his legs quaking under the strain of his own weight and the unbearable feel of the blond moving inside his slick passage. And either Draco took pity on him, or could no longer stand to see his expression, because he pushed Harry back up against the wall, burying himself in deep.
Fingers pressed against his mouth, and Harry sucked them in, licking and wrapping his tongue mindlessly around the digits. Draco thrusts were changing, slowing in pace but increasing in force, fucking him slow, and deep, and hard.
“Ask me nice and I’ll hit your prostate,” Draco demanded, biting Harry’s ear hard. Remembering vaguely of the way Draco had screamed when Harry had found his, it sounded like a damn fine idea.
“Please?” Harry whimpered, brows furrowed as the fingers in his mouth began sliding over his lips, dripping saliva and forcing him to follow with his tongue to chase them.
“Nicer than that,” Draco said with a dark chuckle.
Harry groaned, pushing back into the hips that had stopped moving. “Please Draco… fuck me… come on!” He whined, nipping at the fingers to spur the boy on.
Draco was outright laughing now, the fucking prat. Harry forced his heavy head up, catching Draco’s gaze in the mirror. “Malfoy, finish what you fucking started—Fuck!” Harry shouted, Draco suddenly driving into him and hitting something that ached and sparked red behind his eyes.
“Oh fuck.” Harry fell forward into the mirror, Draco pumping into him with abandon, bruising his hips, and shoulders, and chest against the wall with every thrust. “Fuck yes… oh yes… more… Draco… more.” Draco was his beast, fucking raw, and untamed, and damn, damn big inside him.
“Potter, you sound like a whore,” Draco growled, biting at Harry’s neck in sharp deep pinches. And then lingering on the mark on Harry’s throat, tongue laving and teeth sinking in. Harry jerked as Draco bit him again, reclaiming him and making his heart ache for it. “Draco… Draco, I’m…”
Draco heard the unbridled need and reached for Harry’s length, the hard flesh bobbing with every thrust he took. He quickly ran his hand across Harry’s stomach, using the sweat plus saliva of earlier as a quick lubrication, and wrapped his fist around the brunette’s cock. Harry shouted loudly, moving into the touch and then pressing back against Draco.
Fuck, but Harry wanted it bad. Draco felt dizzy from the plain need in the boy. Even now, even with him being brutal and rough, Harry still needed him. Still needed his touch, and his presence, and… fuck. Fuck Harry Potter and his fucking sentiment.
Harry gave a low cry, his body clenching, cock swelling and spurting against the mirror and Draco’s hand. Shifting, Draco dug fingers into the boy’s hips and slammed into him, trying to erase the feeling of sweetness Harry’s voice and expression had left in him.
Harry gave low, long moans as Draco continued to fuck him, his body aching inside and out. Especially inside, Draco’s cock shaping him brutally. This was what Draco needed right now, Harry realized wearily as he leaned his face on the cool mirror. Needed to not feel so weak around him. Needed to not feel so vulnerable.
“You’re almost…” Harry could feel it, could feel how Draco swelled inside him, and he clamped his muscles tight in response, wanting the blond to shout. But Draco just hissed against his neck, grinding into him and marking him deep inside with his hot seed.
But Harry needed too and when Draco pulled out of him and cleaned himself off, he turned and pulled the blond back, kissing him deep. Draco let him, opening to his tongue, kissing back just as passionately and needy. Then he growled again, pushing Harry away and glaring.
Harry was not surprised when Draco left this time, the blond slamming the door behind him. He didn’t know whether to feel glad that Draco very clearly had some emotions concerning him beyond the lust of his beast, or frustrated that the closer he got to discovering said emotions, the more vicious Draco came when pushing him away.
Harry slowly cleaned himself up, using magic to keep any awkward fluids from appearing later in the day. Then he healed the cut on his face and the cracks in the mirror, his mind strangely empty.
He returned to class, knowing Draco wouldn’t be there, and watched over the potion that the Slytherin had shown a genuine interest in. Harry let his friends chat to him about inane things he used to really enjoy while quietly he thought.
He had once thought of a lot of things before Harry had seen Draco chained and stretched out nude. Then the rest of the world had sort of melted away in a red haze of lust and need when his beast had roared in his ears, unwilling to let the opportunity go. So loud, until Harry couldn’t stop but touch Draco’s beautiful, bruised body.
He had fought with the beast then, struggled not to take Draco without true consent, without honesty and fairness. Because even if Draco wasn’t Voldemort’s, it didn’t mean he was Harry’s. Even when the beast roared otherwise.
Harry suspected if he did claim Draco, did give the beast what it kept loudly demanding, it might finally settle down again. Might stop the maddening throb he felt every time he caught sight of the blond. And Draco wanted to be claimed. He understood the Slytherin’s anger about it earlier, about the beast feeling unloved and unwanted without the mark.
Still, Draco had to admit his feelings. Harry would not yield. Not on this. Not even if it destroyed him. Draco would tell him. He would make him. As strong and powerful as his beast was, Harry was stronger, and dare he say, far more determined. He had fought with the beast many a time over the last three years, and he had always won. Always. He would not lose on this either.
Harry didn’t see Draco again for the rest of the day. He lingered at lunch, and then at dinner, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Slytherin, but Draco never ate. Harry assumed he was holed up in his room again. He could have gone to see, could have caressed, and kissed, and tasted the obstinate boy until Draco gave in and spread to him, like the night before. But there was too much to do, what with packing and getting his financial documents ready for the Goblins tomorrow. And then Ron and Hermione wanted to ‘chat,’ which was their way of ambushing him into listening to all their many—few valid—concerns about the ‘Malfoy Issue.’ And once Harry had fended that line of conversation off with a big, its none of your bloody business rant, they started on about how the Dursleys were kicking him out now that he was of age and out of school and shouldn’t he want to move in with them at their place for a bit.
Maybe Harry should have wanted to move in with them, had even thought of it seriously when he had first received the note from the Goblins that he was being ‘disowned,’ as the Dursleys had put it. But Harry had realized that his friends had greater expectations on who he was and was supposed to be, than first thought.
It wasn’t necessarily a poor thing, just that it created a lot of pressure. Pressure Harry didn’t want to have to deal with on a daily basis from his friends, never mind the rest of the damn wizarding world. As it was, he could barely escape Ron and Hermione with a whole castle to hide in. What would it be like in the small apartment Ron’s brothers had helped them find?
No, Harry would deal with the Goblins tomorrow, deal with his vaults, and seek some place quiet to live once he was free of Hogwarts. Hermione wanted him to jump in, rush to the next big thing while he was fresh from school. But really, Harry didn’t give a fuck what Hermione wanted for him. He wanted to figure out what he wanted instead.
And how Draco Malfoy was going to fit into it.
That was the big issue, wasn’t it? Harry loved the vicious, cold hearted, hot blooded prat with all he had in him. Loved his taunts, loved his snarks, loved his bitchings… There were probably some good things that he loved about Draco as well, but he couldn’t really think of them at the moment.
The Slytherin was an ass, all said and done. Not a Death Eater, but still a right bastard. And at some point, Harry had begun to find it endearing. Sometimes infuriating, but still, Draco was damn adorable when malicious. And Draco was adorable a lot.
Draco had bit him. He had claimed him. Had taken the opportunity again that very day, even when clearly angry, to make sure Harry knew that he belonged to Draco. It was an unspoken commitment. It meant Draco wanted to stay with him, possibly forever.
At least, as long as it took for one of them to kill the other, in what apparently was turning out to be a normal occurrence of rage between the two.
Harry didn’t know what Draco wanted to do after school. All he knew for certain was that he wouldn’t be running off to join the Dark Lord. Maybe there was a job the blond wanted? Some sort of dream he’d been seeking to catch once free of Hogwarts?
It bothered him that he didn’t know because Harry didn’t know how he was going to fit in with what Draco wanted. If he even could.
“Damn it Malfoy, put your wand down!”
Draco had never heard Hermione swear. Part of him wanted to laugh out loud at the outlandishness of it. But mostly, he really wanted to hex someone and Hermione was standing in the way of Lavender, his current target.
Lavender Brown, giggling like an idiot during potions while she whispered to Seamus about Harry running off to get away from Malfoy, had been the last straw for Draco’s questionable sanity. He was fairly certain of this fact, holding his wand chest level with the annoying bint. It seemed the other Gryffindors were certain of it as well since they were all pointing wands at him.
“Listen, Malfoy,” Ron said carefully, trying to calm things before Lavender ended up in smoldering pieces. “We don’t want to hurt you—really, Harry would get pissed—but you need to stop what you’re doing.”
Draco glared, still staring the girl down as if doing so long enough would make her incinerate before his eyes.
He was losing his shit. He had known it since Harry had failed to show up on Monday. Fine, since last week when he had first gotten the scent of Harry and sex, and needed to claim the pain in the ass. He was not being himself, he understood. But really, he didn’t fucking care anymore.
“Tell me where Potter is.” Still pointing his wand at Lavender, Draco turned his gaze to Ron. “Tell me, or she’s going to be missing fingers.”
Ron blanched, grabbed Lavender by the shoulders and pulled her aside. “Stop being an ass, Malfoy. You don’t need to threaten anyone.”
Eyes narrowed back to Lavender, Draco was pretty sure it hadn’t been a threat but a promise.
“For god sake, Malfoy, calm down,” Hermione said irritably. “Harry will be back soon. He just had some family problems to deal with that took longer then planned. Put your wand away already.”
Draco slowly and reluctantly put his wand in his pocket, still glaring at the annoying twit who would dare suggest Harry had left him. “When? It’s already fucking Wednesday. When will he be back?”
“We don’t know. Some sort of legal confusion came about. He needed to get all his things from the house and store them. He didn’t go into it with us too much, just said he was busy.” Now that Draco had disarmed, the rest of the Gryffindors did as well, although Lavender was walked to the other side of the classroom to finish her work away from Draco.
“Doesn’t your bond tell you stuff like this?” Seamus asked. “Like, he’s alive and okay?”
Draco snarled and sat heavily on the nearest desk. “No. Not without him biting back, the fucking ass.” Fucking stupid Potter. Why hadn’t Harry told him he was going to be late? Shit, why the fuck did he even have to care that Harry hadn’t told him? Fucking hell.
“When did you speak to him last?” Draco asked, needing to know as much as possible to stop his whirling mind. Because he still wasn’t sure Harry was okay. Harry would have told him he was going to be late… Right?
“Sunday evening. Harry’s guardians went out for the weekend even though they had arranged the time for him to get his stuff. They have to be there for the pickup.”
“But, thats days ago. How long is he going to wait?”
Ron shrugged. “Probably as long as they take. They’re really terrible people.”
Draco scowled, staring at his shoes. This was fucking miserable, caring all the time. And it wasn’t a nice, bearable quiet caring. No, it was this loud, horrible obnoxious aching caring that made him want to hurt people. Or maybe just slam his head into the wall really hard a couple hundred times to stop having to feel anything at all. Fucking Potter.
“Someone, one of you lot, is going to tell me when he gets back,” Draco demanded. “The very fucking instant, or so help me, I will hunt each and every one of you down and put you next to my Slytherin brethren on the walls. Got it?”
The Gryffindors glared at Draco, like the stubborn lions they were. But then Ron chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re fucking worried about him. Holy shit. This has got to be the craziest thing yet. And the two of you have been acting really crazy.”
“Shut up, Weasley,” Draco huffed, crossing back to his own seat. That cheered him a bit, knowing that Harry had been acting just as messed up as him. But Harry wasn’t there, and that was just beyond unforgivable.
“The very instant!” He shouted to Ron, who laughed out loud in reply. Fucking Gryffindors.
Harry, through no fault of his own, had been delayed for greater reasons then just the disagreeable Dursleys. Lucius Malfoy, shining blond hair and icy cold stare, had cornered him outside of Gringotts on Wednesday morning, demanding—and he stressed demanding—to know what he had done to his son.
Harry did not feel like going into the many sordid details of what he and Draco had been up to, enjoyable as they were, and instead asked for a little more information to what Lucius was referring to.
“Do not play dumb with me, Mr. Potter. I have the official documents right here.” Lucius pulled a scroll from his pocket and unfurled it angrily. “He’s bitten you. Claimed you. The damn Goblins need me to sign off on how to handle the bond gift. What the hell has happened?”
Ah. Wizards and there insistence on paper trails. Harry eyed Lucius, trying to figure out where all the anger was coming from. Lucius was no longer aligned with Voldemort so it couldn’t be that. Maybe because Harry was a half-blood? Or a male? Or maybe just because he was Harry Potter, blah fucking blah of the wizarding world?
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say here, Mr. Malfoy. You have the paperwork. I think its pretty clear what has happened.”
Lucius shook his head sharply, cold anger radiating beneath his pristine exterior. Harry was reminded strongly of Draco before the prat opened his mouth and started hexing. But Lucius apparently had far more control. “No, it is not. The bond is incomplete. You’re making a mockery of him, and the Malfoy name.”
Harry blinked, very much confused. “Wait… so you want me to claim your son?’
“Harry, I want you to ensure that Draco is not some unloved, unsupported jest. We purebloods take bonding very seriously. His mother has been having a fit since nothing has been received to reflect that you reciprocate his attention. He is of age. He is attractive, powerful, and wealthy. Get on with it already.”
It was a very strange day, Harry decided. Very strange. Hell, Lucius was talking to him like he was an actual person. Rudely still, but one couldn’t expect miracles.
“Listen, Mr. Malfoy… err, Lucius. If it will set your mind at ease, I plan on claiming Draco.”
“When? It’s been nearly a week,” Lucius demanded tightly, but his frown had lost a bit of its edge.
“When the prat can admit to his feelings,” Harry snapped back. He gave Lucius an assessing look, wondering if Draco’s parents were the reason the boy was so messed up emotionally. “This is between your son and I. I apologize if it’s causing you any inconvenience, but it’s none of your bloody business.”
Lucius glared long moments, and then relaxed, his tension dissipating like a sudden summer shower. “We will have you over to the Manor once your school is out. Narcissa would like the opportunity to offer formal congratulations as would the rest of the family.” Lucius smiled then, still a bit grim, but a smile nevertheless.
Harry stared in shock, waiting to be hexed. There was no way Lucius Malfoy was smiling at him, especially after hearing he was bonding with his son.
“Er… Okay. If Draco agrees.”
“He’ll be ecstatic,” Lucius said assuredly, and damn near polite. Harry looked around warily, wondering if someone was waiting to spring. This was bizarre.
He decided he wasn’t falling for it. He pinned Lucius with a piercing stare and stepped forward. “What the hell are you playing at? You’re going to pretend you’re happy about this? I’m fucking your son—No parent is happy about that. Especially not the ex-lapdog of Voldemort.”
Lucius sighed in exasperation. “Potter, he is my son. My only child. And he has been infatuated with you for years. I knew this day was coming and I prepared accordingly.”
“What?” Harry narrowed his eyes, pretty sure Lucius was full of shit. “You left the Dark Lord for Draco?”
“I left because You-Know-Who has become so weak and insane that its only a matter of time before he loses. Draco is of age. His choices are his own. But,” Lucius paused, his frown a deep line in his face, “Draco was going to choose you. And he would have had to leave us to do so. I did not want that to be an option. It was fortuitous that my decision also took that situation away.”
This was fucking insane. Thankfully, Harry was saved the annoyance of having to believe and appreciate Lucius’s intentions— there was only so much one could handle in a day— by a sudden explosion of light and wind as a spell bounced by. Exchanging glances with Lucius, Harry grabbed the man’s arm and dragged him behind the large marble slab with the bank’s name emblazoned on it. Spells flew overhead, and then a loud crack and explosion.
And if to prove how ridiculous the day was insisting on getting, together Lucius and Harry fired spells back until the air was filled with dust and flashes of light. Then suddenly an earth shattering crack filled their ears, the ground gave way, and darkness fell.
It was Bellatrix. A crazed, insane Bellatrix, that on seeing her traitorous brother-in-law talking with the boy-who-lived, hadn’t been able to figure out who to kill first, so she had attempted to take them both out at the same time.
Which was fine, because Lucius made a surprisingly good shield when he pulled Harry up from the underground cavern he had nearly fallen down to his death. “Come on Potter. Before the bitch gets here.”
Harry stood wavering, trying to figure out what the loud ringing in his ears was. Then he saw her, dark hair crackling like snakes around her head as she cast another spell from across the plaza. Harry raised his wand to defend himself, but Lucius had already bounced the energy back before it even reached them.
Lucius was pushing him towards the bank doors, trying to get him to safety as Bellatrix raised more power. “Quickly Potter. Get out of here!”
It was the angry snarl on Lucius’s face, Harry realized right before his beast roared up and took him over. It was too much like Draco’s and he would never let anyone hurt Draco. While Lucius looked on, shield raised to protect them, Harry killed Bellatrix.
It was blackness itself when Draco woke up. Strange, unfamiliar sensations were assaulting him. He was cold… and something was on his face… fabric. His arms felt heavy… but, no. He was standing?
Draco shook at his weariness, trying to figure out what was going on. He couldn’t see. There was a pressure over his eyelids reminiscent of a blindfold. His feet were cold, bare on the stone floor. And his arms heavy and held above his head with chains. But different from before… These were warm and leather instead of the cold pinch of hard metal.
He was nude. Nude and stretched out in the dark, Harry’s scent strong in the air around him.
“I’m right here,” Harry murmured, hand brushing his shoulder. Harry’s voice sounded unusual, hoarse and low as if he’d been yelling long hours. And when he pressed his mouth to Draco’s cheek, he could smell dust and the faint tang of blood.
“Why am I here?” Draco asked, his mouth dry. Harry hummed into the flesh below his ear, licking slowly.
“Oh, I think you may know.”
“Harry.” Draco wanted to yell, snap at the idiot for taking off and not telling him. But Harry had pressed his body up against his and Draco couldn’t help but gasp at the bare smooth flesh rubbing against his. “Oh, hell.”
“Either I have a kink, which if you could see yourself, you really wouldn’t blame me, Draco. Or maybe, maybe I thought we could try this particular night all over again,” Harry suggested, hands moving up the blond’s arms and slowly pulling down, over his chest and sides, and settling on his hips.
“Oh gods, do me Potter. Don’t fucking hesitate and just fuck me,” Draco moaned, hips thrusting forward.
Harry chuckled, low and dark, and bit his shoulder hard. Draco cried out, back arching as he tried to move into Harry’s embrace. But the brunette was elusive, slipping back and sliding hands over Draco as he walked around him.
“I’m going to fuck you, don’t worry about that. But when, well that’s up to you.” Harry pressed his palm against the side of his erection and Draco tried to thrust into it. But then Harry slipped away again.
“Potter, fucking… Oh!” Harry’s fingers were suddenly moving down the crack of his ass, thumb pressing in and stretching his hole.
“You just have to tell me what I already know, Draco.” Harry leaned his chest against his back, pressing his hardness against his ass and grinding. “Its very simple. You just have to tell me who you belong to.”
Draco gave a shattered moan, not sure if it was Harry’s cock or words that were making him feel so hot and weak.
“Hmm, you like that, do you?” Harry asked, running his hands over Draco’s stomach and then up to his chest. He slowly plucked one nipple, and then the other, rolling and squeezing while Draco whimpered at the touch.
“Harry?” Draco whispered, head falling back against the boy’s strong shoulder.
“Yes?” Harry gently kissed the blond’s cheek, and then his chin, moving up to press kisses to his nose and forehead and other cheek.
“I… I don’t know how,” Draco breathed out, pressing his face into Harry’s hands as the boy followed his kisses with touches, ending on his jaw to firmly turn Draco’s head and kiss him deep.
Harry drank of him, hot and suffocatingly sweet, pulling Draco’s tongue into his mouth, fingers moving down his throat and caressing. And in the dark it was somehow more consuming, pulling Draco’s heart, making it well and burn until he felt the sting of tears. And then the trickle as they spilled over and streaked down his face.
Harry felt the wetness on his hand, pulling away to lick up Draco’s face. “That’s it, beautiful. Let go.”
“N-no.” Draco didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want to feel so damn much when Harry touched him. Even though he had missed it. Even though he had ached each night in the dark, hoping Harry would come for him to quench the fire raging inside. It was just too much to feel.
Harry moved around him, drawing him forward, pulling him tight against his chest. He cupped his hands to the blond’s face, fingers brushing softly. And then his lips were pressing to Draco’s again, somehow even softer then before, just a feather of pressure.
Draco gasped into the kiss, warm liquid pooling in his stomach and leaving him oddly rubbery in the knees. “Harry,” he groaned, panting against his lips.
Harry let his fingers move back, tangling in Draco’s hair and massaging into his scalp. “Yes, Draco?”
“I… I want to see you.” Draco sighed, head moving back into the soothing fingers.
“Tell me you want me.” Harry tugged ever so gently at his hair, fingers digging in for the slightest of moments.
“Oh… I want you,” Draco whispered.
“Louder,” Harry pressed, tugging again a little harder.
Draco groaned, mouth seeking out Harry’s lips, but the boy was staying just out of reach. “I want you,” he said loud and clear. He felt as Harry’s fingers moved and unfurled the blindfold from his eyes.
Out of the darkness lit by soft candle light, Harry’s face came into view. The gorgeous boy’s eyes were glowing green in the low light, and…
Draco blinked, leaning his face forward and licking up Harry’s cheek. “What’s happened? You’re covered in dried blood.”
“I’m fine, Draco. Just had an interesting day.” Harry let him clean his cheek with his tongue, and then turned his head so the boy could bite at his ear the way he liked so much. Then Harry pulled away and began to kiss down his throat, wide slick kisses that had Draco bucking his hips.
Harry hovered over one of his nipples, fanning hot breath over the little nub. Draco wiggled, trying to get Harry to lick already. “Tell me you need me,” Harry said with a smirk, meeting Draco’s eyes as the boy glared down at him. When Draco didn’t answer right away, Harry extended his tongue, centimeters from actually touching the pick ache.
“Fuck… fine. I need you. I fucking need you,” Draco muttered. Harry touched his sensitive nipple, and all annoyance left him to be replaced by the sensation of tongue, and mouth, and sucking, and teeth nipping. “Oh, yes… fuck, Harry. Fuck, I need you.”
Harry spent long, wet moments on each of Draco’s nipples, hands holding the boy still as he shook before him. And then he was moving down again, hot mouth tasting Draco’s ribs, and stomach, and belly button. He lapped slowly down Draco’s navel, tongue teasingly close to his straining erection when he stopped again.
“Tell me you love me.”
Draco had been expecting another demand, just not that particular demand. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back to block out Harry’s haunting gaze. “Fuck… I can’t. Don’t make me.”
Harry stood, soothing fingers into Draco’s jaw and dropping kisses over the boy’s face. “Tell me,” he insisted, tongue and teeth marking the blond’s pale skin. “I love you Draco. I adore everything about you, from your nasty attitude to your sweet, painful tears when it feels just so good,” Harry whispered into his skin, feeling the blond’s breathing increase. “I love how fucking stubborn you are… and brilliant… and mean, you fucking prat. Now tell me,” Harry demanded, pulling back to stare into the awed silver gaze. “Tell me you love me.”
Draco slowly licked his lips, feeling pinned under Harry’s eyes more effectively then the chains keeping him standing. “I… ah, I love you,” he breathed out, his face turning red the moment the words echoed in the room.
Harry didn’t let him duck his head, cupping his cheeks and kissing him gently, achingly sweet, until Draco’s head swam.
“Say it again, beautiful. I want to hear it again.” Harry slid his tongue over Draco’s bottom lip, pulling, and nipping, and finally releasing.
“I love you, Harry,” Draco murmured, feeling dazed and very much on fire.
“Yes, again.” Harry’s hands slid down Draco’s back, down to his smooth ass and then the crack between.
“Oh… oh fuck… Harry, uhhn,” Draco whimpered, Harry’s long fingers dipping inside him without hesitation, delving deep inside his hole and stretching. “Love you.”
Giving Draco a final heated kiss, Harry knelt and ran his tongue over his long length, stretching his lips wide and taking the boy deep inside him. Draco howled above him. Harry glanced up, catching the blazing silver gaze as he relaxed and let Draco fuck his mouth while he continued to stretch his entrance.
Draco’s thrusts were slow, trying to contain himself with the fingers filling him so fully and Harry sucking so completely, cheeks hollow, tongue flat and rubbing everywhere it reached. “Oh fuck, Harry,” Draco pleaded, the damn tears finding escape from his eyes again. “Harry.”
Harry slowly released Draco’s hard cock and licked up the sides a final time in parting. Then he was standing again, pulling his fingers out of his tightness and gripping his pale thigh up and around his hip. Harry guided the head of his cock to Draco’s hole, rubbing slowly, but not breaching in.
“Last one, love,” Harry said breathlessly, mouth moving to Draco’s ear. “Who do you belong to?’
Draco closed his eyes, breathing out slowly. “You, Harry.”
“Say it all,” Harry insisted, biting the curl of his ear.
“I… Draco Malfoy… belong to Harry Potter.” Draco lips gaped open, eyes fluttering as Harry pushed into him slowly, just the tip sinking in and stretching him wide.
“You do, Draco. You really fucking do. Tell me why.” Harry’s voice had grown so rough, so low it was hard to hear, and Draco turned his head so he could read the boy’s swollen lips.
“Because I love you… Because I need you and want you… And because you’re fucking mine, Harry. You are mine,” Draco added with a groan, Harry thrusting in, sliding deeper, and sinking until he was fully impaled. “Fuck yes.”
Harry kissed him, demanding with sharp teeth and long tongue as he slowly fucked Draco, the boy clinging to his chains to keep from collapsing.
“Harry… please,” Draco gasped between kisses. “Need it now… Right fucking now.”
“You’re mine,” Harry whispered, pulling from Draco’s lips and moving to his throat. “You’re fucking mine, beautiful. All mine. Always.”
“Always,” Draco repeated, feeling Harry’s breath, and then teeth as they scraped across his throat. “Yes.”
Harry sunk his teeth in, cruelly clamping on Draco’s throat and holding still as the boy thrashed in his arms and around his cock. He raised his magic as Draco’s blood spilled, bonding the blond and his beast to him. To him forever… Or until Draco finally snapped and killed him.
“Harry… Harry… yes… oh harder,” Draco cried, rocking his hips and bearing down to remind Harry that he was still very much inside him.
Harry complied, hips thrusting in awkward, heavy thrusts that Draco responded to with broken sobs and bruised hips as the boy tried to get closer, tried to bury him completely inside. Then Draco was arching, ass clenching tight around him.
Harry couldn’t hold back anymore and came, spilling into Draco. He quickly wrapped his fingers around the blond’s flushed cock trapped between their bodies, pumping until Draco came with a final sob, hot fluids dripping over Harry’s stomach and hands.
They stood long moments, Harry still binding him, still claiming him deep inside, unwilling to let Draco go until he was one hundred percent certain the bond was beyond impossible to break.
“Harry, I feel it,” Draco exclaimed, eyes opening, head falling forward to nuzzle into Harry’s dusty hair. “Your heart… your emotions… your ache. I can feel it all.”
Furrowing his brow, Harry finally extracted his teeth from Draco’s throat, licking thoroughly to catch all the slick red dripping down over the pale flesh. He quirked a smile, feeling Draco’s awe—and dare he say, genuine affection spiral through to him.
He reached up, releasing Draco from his chains and then lifting the boy, legs wrapped around his waist. They didn’t have far to go, Harry turning and walking Draco to his bed, laying him down among the cool sheets and slipping in with him, their bodies entwined.
And if Harry mumbled just how much Draco was his as he caressed and licked his sweat-soaked flesh, Draco showed no annoyance to it, verbally or mentally.
“Harry, what happened?” Draco finally asked again once the brunette had finished his delicious ritual of licking and tasting every inch of him. “You have some bad bruises.”
Harry sighed heavily, burying his face into Draco’s throat. “I killed someone today.”
Draco, eyes having drifted shut, shot awake at that, glancing at Harry’s dusty locks. “On purpose?”
“Very much that,” Harry muttered.
Draco relaxed because if Harry was killing on purpose, then he had a damn proper moral reason for it. “I’m glad you’re okay. I was… well, worried, I guess.”
Harry smirked into Draco’s throat and then nipped sharply. “Ron told me. I figured I should get down here in person instead of risking one of them to tell you I was back.”
Draco’s scowl was short lived, Harry licking over his mark possessively stealing his anger away.
“It was your Aunt.”
Draco glanced again at Harry’s hair, hand resting now in the thick dark mess and massaging deep. He could feel Harry’s self loathing, dark and bitter. “Bella was a psycho bitch. Her existence was agony for her, never mind the people she inflicted it upon. It was a mercy, Harry.”
Draco waited, breath held as he felt the self loathing fade, although heavy guilt remained… and then awe. Awe as Harry raised himself and stared down at his face.
“You astound me sometimes,” Harry murmured, kissing Draco soft and wet. And if he felt a bit of awe himself that Harry could ever look at him that way, Harry showed no annoyance to it verbally or mentally.
Instead the emotionally exhausted Gryffindor began biting down Draco’s chest and navel, quickly raising Draco’s energy, waking his beast and demanding the Slytherin fuck him until unconscious. And neither had any negative thought or annoyance to that idea at all, Draco burying deep into Harry, pulling long, heated cries from his lover until spiraling down into peaceful, dark sleep.
“Come on guys, I have to pee!”
Barely glancing at the Irish idiot that was Seamus Finnigan, Draco pushed the boy aside and dragged Harry’s panting, flushed form into the train’s small bathroom. He spelled the door shut, only to have Harry push him onto the shut toilet lid and quickly undo his belt buckle as he knelt between the blond’s knees.
Draco watched, eyes glazed as Harry pulled his hard cock from the confines of his pants and briefs. Harry pressed his face to his length, mouth opening wide as he rubbed and moaned against Draco’s thick dick.
“Potter, you fucking slut. Wrap your lips and suck already,” Draco hissed, eyes momentarily rolling back when Harry obeyed.
They had not had an opportunity to do more than kiss for a day and a half, too busy packing, graduating and saying goodbye to long friends… And other pointless shit that seemed to pale in comparison to Harry sucking Draco down in deep.
The bond had strengthen since Harry had bit Draco, not to the point of reading minds or anything crazy like that, but definitely to the point where Draco could feel just how fucking hard Harry got when he talked dirty to the boy. And Harry made it fucking easy to talk dirty, moaning and eager for Draco’s dick whenever he looked at him. “Fuck yes… suck it down, Harry. All the way in.”
Harry made a delicious choking sound, his excitement once again getting the better of him. Draco watched, eyes slit as the boy bobbed, green eyes turning towards his to pin, and tease, and taunt as Harry brought him to the edge and let him hang there.
“Fuck, fucking finish me, or I will open that fucking door and let all your friends see what a huge slut you are,” Draco promised, grabbing Harry’s hair and thrusting into his open, hot mouth. Draco could feel the effect on Harry, the words making the boy dizzy and ache.
“You and that fucking kink,” Draco muttered, pulling out of Harry’s wet heat to cum all over his tanned face. Harry just moaned, the streams of hot liquid undoing him, mouth slack as Draco rubbed his wet tip against Harry’s lips with bruising force. “Is that what you want, Potter? To have everyone see just what a big—and I do mean big, you fucking thick pricked giant—impatient, slut you are?” Draco asked, watching as Harry opened his eyes, agonizing lust twisting his features.
“Or do you want to show them how you can bend me, hold me down, and fuck me hard? I could open that door right now, Harry. What do you want them to see?”
Eyes gaining a bit of focus, Harry glared, stood, and hauled Draco up and pushed him forward against the sink. Harry muttered one of the blond’s very favorite spells into his entrance before tearing his fly down and sheathing into Draco in one hard thrust.
“Ohhh… Oh, fuck!” Draco cried out, allowing Harry to cover rough fingers to his mouth to keep from screaming too loud. Then Harry fucked him, hard, and brutal, and possessive, until Draco’s hole was raw and aching from the feel of his Gryffindor pounding into him.
“Oh fuck, that’s it Draco… Oh, you’re so fucking tight,” Harry growled, fingers bruising into Draco’s hip as he slammed the boy forward, forcing Draco’s head against the dirty wall and changing angles so he could hit that very loud spot inside his mate. And Draco got very loud, very tight with each wild thrust Harry forced into the boy.
“Y-yes… don’t stop,” Draco begged, making Harry smile and bite his shoulder through his shirt.
“Now who’s the fucking slut, hmm? Look at you, fucking taking my cock with a line of people waiting outside. Cutting everyone, just so I would… fucking ruin you,” Harry grunted, his voice getting hoarser and dark with each word.
Draco really had no rebuttal, his mouth widening, tongue pressing flat against the wall and moving mindlessly as Harry increased his desperate, savage pace. He could feel Harry’s thickness inside, slickly jolting deep, deep within. His own thighs so tense and hole so stretched wide and sore.
Harry had gotten very good at the dirty talk too, something Draco was enjoying a lot. No way in hell he’d let Harry fuck him in front of people, but he could still give the boy the next best thrill of knowing people could hear them.
“Oh gods… Oh my fucking hell.” Draco arched, stretching his back as he renewed his grip on the sink, spreading his legs and pushing back into Harry as the brunette bit him again, this time on the side of the neck. “Fuck Harry, come inside me. Do it, you fucking beast.”
Harry did, pressing Draco’s head into the wall with his palm, hips snapping as Draco’s thighs bit into the sink and Harry exploded deep inside. He slowed his wild thrusts but didn’t stop, filling Draco slowly and fully as his cum dripped down the blond’s thighs and pooled on his trousers.
Harry grabbed Draco’s renewed erection and pumped in rhythm. Draco groaned, gasping out his release onto the sink and silver faucet, eyes shutting as Harry buried himself in deep, pushing forward unyielding and pinning him there for long, aching moments.
Harry eventually withdrew once their combined breathing had slowed enough. He cleaned them both up, along with the small bathroom, looking far too smug for his own good. His green eyes were laughing as Draco struggled to keep his knees from knocking.
“You vicious, sexy prat,” Harry murmured, kissing Draco and throwing the door open with a slam. Draco ignored the many annoyed and blushing stares to kiss Harry again, noting that Harry took them all in with a lazy smile, the kinky shit. The train only had one working bathroom currently and at least a dozen people were waiting as Harry lead Draco like a prize down the hall to where his Gryffindor friends were waiting.
Together they would be getting off at King’s Cross Station and Harry would be temporarily staying at Malfoy Manor, just until he finished the final arrangements for the flat he had bought. Warding was the hold up, and not something Harry would allow to be half-assed since Draco had been attacked by the Slytherins and Harry was still Voldemort’s favorite target.
The idea wasn’t too horrible, not since the strange morning he and Lucius had spent killing Bellatrix and then later that afternoon with Lucius and tea while reporting to the Aurors about the incident. Draco’s father wasn’t half bad. Not to say he wasn’t a selfish, evil prick, but he had Draco’s interests at heart and Harry could respect strong family loyalty.
Ron was muttering to himself when Harry opened the compartment door, glaring at the two of them as they sat, Harry pulling Draco into his lap. “I could fucking hear you two all the way down here. Made Hermione put up a silencing spell just to shut it out. Bloody wankers.”
Huffing, Ron pushed his chessboard towards Draco, who had rudely left half way through their match to pull a very horny Harry away to shag.
Hermione shrugged, trying to get in the last of her reading before she had to deal with hugs and farewells at the station. “He’s just angry because you were actually beating him in chess.” She patted Ron distractedly on the shoulder and turned a page.
While Draco slowly and deliberately destroyed every one of Ron’s players on the board, Harry sat back and thought, hands straying over Draco’s hips and back.
Draco, studious prat that he was, had told him he was thinking of opening up a potions shop, mostly of more complicated pieces that could be made on order. Harry, thinking long about it, felt he could probably supply some of his fame for Draco, just to get customers in the door while he figured out what he wanted to do. Certainly not make potions everyday for the rest of his life. But as long as it involved being near enough to grind against Draco when the urge took him, it really didn’t matter.
Draco swatted behind him as Harry’s hands began to squeeze the blond’s ass with interest. Connecting with the side of Harry’s head, Draco peered back and stuck out his tongue. Harry pulled the boy back against him, letting Draco squawk in a fluster of tangled limbs while Ron nearly missed saving the chessboard.
“Fucking hate you two when you’re like this. Could have been beating the shit out of each other like proper, but no. Fucking wankers.” Ron killed Draco’s knight, forcing Draco to smack at Harry until the boy stopped kissing him and he could continue the game.
Draco won, much to Ron’s torn distress. Ron was tired of winning all the time but he apparently was a sore loser. Something he had not realized until the Slytherin had beaten him five times in a row.
Neville and a very pissed off Seamus eventually joined them. And then Dean, just to stop Seamus from yelling at how long he had had to wait to pee while the two bastards were shagging like rabbits.
Draco ducked his head, feeling Harry’s very kinky interest in Seamus’s anger about the incident, especially when the Irish pain kept going over how he could hear every bloody breath the two were making, never mind the mind scarring words. Draco was not surprised when Harry hauled him up and whirled him against the door, kissing him soundly while Seamus then bitched about that.
“Thomas, will you shut that idiot up!” Draco snapped, pushing at Harry fruitlessly while the brunette attacked his throat and collar with lips and teeth, hot palms moving over his stomach, ass, and thighs. “Potter doesn’t need a bloody narrator to add to this fetish.”
Draco met Harry’s heated gaze, a silent war raging between them as Harry begged and pleaded to be able to fuck him then and there, and Draco promised he would fucking kill him if he so much as tried.
And so help him, Potter fucking tried, hands reaching down to the front of Draco’s pants, flipping at his zipper and sinking long fingers inside to wrap around his hard prick and pull.
So Draco grabbed the love of his life, whirled him, and pushed him through the compartment door, wood splintering around him as Harry sprawled back, grinning like a bloody fool for getting as far as he had before being stopped.
Glaring, Draco zipped himself back up, picked Harry off the ground by his thick hair, and pushed him down the hallway and back to the bathroom. The growing line stared warily, reluctantly stepping out of the way as Draco shoved his mate brutally into the small bathroom and punished him with his cock. Harry’s favorite punishment.
Naturally, Harry was very loud about it.
END
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Forced To Be Their Sister
Exclusive Library
Rob has had enough of his older brothers teasing him. Just because his mother insisted he was her honorary girl when she was done raising sons didn’t mean he was an actual girl! He’s sick of being treated like a chick and he’s looking for vengeance.
Rob’s three older brother’s are sick of their little brother acting like an angry, spoiled brat. When Rob crosses the lines with another one of his childish pranks, they decide it’s time to teach their little sister a lesson in being a girl the only way three muscular, controlling guys know how.
This story is 17,000+ words long. It contains graphic language, sexually explicit content between brothers, a great corset and leather boots, spanking, and mild humiliation mixed with some tears. 18+ Only
17,000+ wrds, Published June 11, 2016.
Heat level: XX
Rob had finally had enough. His assholic older brothers had crossed him for the last fucking time. The three jerks had once again—well, Frank had and he totally fucking hated Frank—Frank had said he was a girl. Worse, a cheerleader. This time in front of the entire fucking football team. The bastard had stood in front of everyone and said the reason his little brother couldn’t try out for the team was because he was really a chick and they should have him cheer instead. And then everyone had laughed. Dan, his other asshole of a brother, had laughed the loudest and even Joey, who was usually the nice one out of the three, had joined in. Whenever he was around Frank and Dan, Joey always took their side. It wasn’t fair. Rob had three older, stronger, meaner brothers and they always picked on him.
Today, he was going to show them.
Rob stalked into their family kitchen, his parents still at work and his brothers still at practice. He placed the bag of sugar he had bought at the convenience store on the table, pulling a chair out and standing on it so he could reach the higher cabinet over the fridge. Fucking Frank was always laughing about how he needed to stand on something to reach the cabinet just like their mom. But Frank was a goddamn giant, as was Dan and Joey, and normal people needed a stool to reach that high. He wasn’t short and petite, he was just being compared to fucking giants. Everyone looked like a matchstick compared to his brothers.
Grinning viciously, Rob grabbed the container of whey protein powder out of the cabinet, gasping when he fumbled the large, plastic container and nearly dropped it. Fuck, that would have been a total mess. He cradled the container to his chest as he jumped down from the chair, then headed straight for the sink.
They thought they were so fucking great with their bulging muscles and tall, athletic forms. Just because mom had wanted a girl for the longest time and used to call Rob her baby Robyn didn’t mean he was a girl. Just because she had spent the first five years of his life dressing him in pink and calling him Robyn and telling everyone he was her honorary daughter didn’t mean he was actually a fucking girl. And what the fuck did his brothers do? Did they show sympathy? Did they try and help him bulk up like them or help him practice so he could join a sport? No. They just made fun of him too, teasing him for his slender body and cute face. They were always calling him Robyn, and cutie, and their pretty sis. God, he hated them all.
Just wait until the three of them were fat and slow, then they’d wish they were even close to as skinny as he was.
Rob poured three-fourths of the protein powder straight into the sink, turning the faucet on and running the garbage disposal so it wouldn’t clog. Taking the container with him, he hefted the five-pound bag of sugar and tore at the top of the heavy paper bag. Only to scowl, his fingers not strong enough to actually rip through the thick material. Goddamn, he hated his brothers. He could just hear Dan jeering in his ear about how weak he was. He didn’t have girl’s hands!
Grabbing the nearest knife, Rob stabbed into the bag, tearing the instrument out and pouring the sugar into the nearly empty protein powder container. He didn’t need to be strong; he was fucking smart. Once the plastic jar was filled, he replaced the wide cover and gave the powder a good shake to mix the contents. He got back on the chair, putting the container back where he had found it.
His brothers mixed the stuff into everything. Everything. It wouldn’t take long before they started getting fat, then they’d see how terrible it was to make fun of someone because of their body. Rob couldn’t help that he was short and thin. It was just the way he had been born. Just because his three older brothers had been born looking like Greek gods didn’t give them the right to treat him like shit. Fuck them.
Putting the chair back, Rob had a moment of quiet worry, his gaze sliding up to the cabinet. They always mixed the powder in stuff, usually flavorful stuff because it tasted like crap. He was pretty sure none of his brothers would be able to tell.
He snorted, grabbing the empty bag of sugar and crumpling it between his hands, then stuffing it into his backpack. He’d dump the evidence at school. He didn’t want to risk anyone seeing the bag in the house trash. No, he was fucking brilliant and didn’t have to worry about shit. His older brothers were a bunch of idiot jocks. Like they’d fucking figure it out?
***
It was after five before the once nearly empty house was full, Frank, Dan, and Joey coming home, sweat still clinging to them from their time working out. They all beelined it to the kitchen, crashing through the house like a small herd of animals. Their parents wouldn’t be home till much later seeing as it was their weekly date night, meaning the boys had to fend for themselves for dinner. Rob was nowhere to be found but the sound of the shower could be heard from the downstairs bathroom. Joey’s expression was grim as he scolded the eldest of the three tall, tanned, dark-haired brothers for his earlier comment.
“You know how sensitive Robbie gets, Frank. You really shouldn’t have said that. Not in front of the entire team.” Joey’s hair was longer than the other three, black and shoulder length with a soft curl that was currently dripping sweat while he chugged a bottle of water.
Frank, the tallest and strongest of the three, looked far from apologetic as he reached above the refrigerator and grabbed the protein powder from the cabinet. His hair was short with bangs that teased over his forehead when they weren’t spiked back. “Come on, Joey, the kid gets asthma walking to the fucking mailbox. He can’t join the team. Those guys would break Rob to pieces and you know it.”
Joey flinched, his kind, gray eyes full of worry as he imagined their petite, slim-limbed brother trying to go up against an entire football team. Rob was just too small and delicate even if he was all punk attitude.
“Besides,” Frank continued, taking the glasses Dan handed him and putting the three out on the table. “You know what Johnson would pull if Rob even stepped near a fucking tryout. No way in fuck I’m letting that happen.”
At Frank’s unhelpful lack of explanation, Joey turned with furrowed brows to Dan, the youngest of the three rolling his deep blue eyes back at him.
“Seriously, Joey? Don’t you fucking pay attention? Johnson’s been perving on Robyn for a fucking year now. You really want to let that creep near our little brother?” The glass clinked, Dan stirring milk into his protein shake. “Rob doesn’t know how to handle himself with a guy like that. Johnson would have the kid stripped and on his knees sucking cock in five minutes flat.”
His spoon held in his hand like a knife, Joey pointed it straight at Dan’s face, the brunette’s expression dark. “Could you please not put that mental image in my head, asshole? I will stab that fucker if he touches my Robbie.”
Dan and Frank exchanging a silent look, Frank carefully pulled the spoon from Joey’s hand. “Yeah, well, to save you from a life sentence in prison for murder with spoon, I made sure the kid wouldn’t step near the field,” Frank said flatly, using the spoon to stir his own drink. He dumped a final scoop of powder into Joey’s glass, replacing the lid to the container. “Robyn is too sensitive for sports. Remember when he tried to play kickball, then spent an hour bawling when he stepped on that butterfly?”
“Come on, he was ten,” Joey reminded, unable to stop a small smile from gracing his lips. Robbie had always been ridiculously adorable. It was kind of hard not to pick on him. He had the cutest face and just got so worked up over everything. How could you not want to piss him off until he threw a little hissy fit? Robbie’s beautiful, violet-blue eyes would flash angrily and he’d always try to take a swing at you even though the kid had the scrawniest damn arms. Of course, it always ended in tears, the boy so emotional, he’d be hiccuping by the time the older brothers relented.
Joey admitted to a dark, secret thrill in seeing his little brother cry, especially when Robbie would cling to him for comfort after, burying his face against his chest until he finally calmed.
Joey slowly frowned, growling internally when his mind flashed for a second on Nate Johnson who had started hanging out with the three of them more, always asking to come over to the house. If that fucker so much as looked at Robbie funny, he was going to beat the guy’s face bloody. He’d beaten guys for less when it came to his little brother. All but Frank and Dan, who he shared an unspoken agreement with to back off when things got too rough when picking on their little brother.
Maybe it was time to teach Robbie how to take care of himself. If a creep like Johnson was looking at the kid…
“He asked me to show him how to get strong,” Joey said after a moment, meeting Dan and Frank’s eye as his glass was handed to him. “He wants to learn how to fight.”
“Like fuck,” Frank growled. “The kid would be fighting everyone that looked at him sideways. He’s too mouthy, too undisciplined—Way too angry all the time.”
Dan agreed with a grin, raising his glass. “Besides, if Robyn was strong, then he wouldn’t be our cute little sis anymore.” They each took a sip from their respective drinks, Joey immediately spitting his back into his cup when the overwhelming flavor of sugar hit his tongue. Frank and Dan slowly followed suit, their eyes growing dark.
“Son of a whore—Didn’t we just get this stuff?” Frank tore the lid off the protein mix, scooping the powder up and putting it in front of Joey so his brother could inspect it. It was clearly sugar, the crystals unmistakable, large and nonclumping.
“The little bitch,” Dan growled lowly.
“He must have been really pissed,” Joey muttered, going to the sink and dumping his glass down the drain. He cupped some of the running water into his hand, rinsing his mouth from the teeth-itching sweet flavor.
“Yeah, but sugar? He knows that can kill you, Joey.”
Joey shrugged but his expression was grim as he glared down while the sink drained. Robbie had never tried to get him to eat sugar before. Watching his older brother take daily injections of insulin since the age of seven had set a line none of the Conner brothers had dared to cross before. “You know how he gets when he’s angry. He forgets shit. Says and does things he doesn’t really think out.”
“I’m the one that called him a cheerleader,” Frank said with a growl, tossing the protein powder straight into the garbage bin. “He should have come at me.”
“We all use the powder. Rob knows as much,” Joey reminded reasonably. “He wasn’t just going after me.”
“Fuck, fine, what the fuck are we going to do about it?” Frank fixed his forgiving brother with a hard look. “That shit was expensive and we can’t have Robyn dosing the diabetic with a daily shot of sugar. He’s got to stop with this shit already. It’s getting old, man.”
Joey sighed, slumping against the sink. “Come on, guys, you’re just going to get the kid more upset. You can’t keep picking on him. He’s never going to grow up if you’re always on his case about shit.”
Frank and Dan exchanged another look, Dan stepping up and whispering into his taller brother’s ear. Joey watched them warily, his arms folded over his chest.
“It’s just a punishment, Joey,” Frank assured him. “So Rob won’t do it again. Think of it like training.”
“Like fuck,” Joey said with a scowl. “What are you going to do, duct tape him to the door again? Robbie was pissed for weeks and only acted out more. This prank war hasn’t helped anything.”
Snickering at the memory, Dan shook his head. The boy’s eyes were full of mischief, Joey even more anxious to see. “Nope, I think it’s time our little bro grew into a full-fledged woman.”
“Damn it. You guys know that shit pisses him off the most,” Joey growled in exasperation. “He’s tired of us calling him a girl.”
“He looks like one,” Frank said flatly. “He’s sure underhanded and bitchy like one. And if Rob keeps this shit up, we’re just going to have to treat him like the girl he is.”
Joey inhaled sharply, his stomach tightening against his will. A part of him loved the idea of Rob as a girl. It was the same part that used to love to tease the boy merciless until he’d cry and cling to him, whimpering into his shirt front. For the longest time growing up, Robyn had been their little sister and it was really hard to let go of seeing the boy silky and in pink. But Rob wasn’t a girl, he was a really angry boy who had been a total pain in the ass lately. One that he really wanted to protect from whatever revenge Frank and Dan had up their sleeve. His other brothers knew Joey could take care of himself but because of his illness, they still felt the need to overreact. Something he was pretty sure the two were going to do again as Dan suddenly bounded down the stairs and out of the front door right after flashing Frank a grin.
Fixing his remaining brother with a glare, Joey pushed himself from the sink. “What the fuck did you mean by that? What are you going to do to him?”
“You mean, what are we going to do to him.” Frank wasn’t intimidated by Joey’s scowl, returning it with a tilted chin. “You’re the one babying him, Joey. You let Rob get away with all kinds of shit.”
“I have to,” Joey said reasonably, used to this particular argument. “You guys are total asshats to him. He thinks we all hate him.”
Frank wasn’t impressed. “We just say shit, bro. Robyn’s been a total terror. He poured soda in our beds, put glue in the shampoo and I’m pretty sure he’s the one that left out Dan’s porn for mom to find. He told Jessica that we all have crabs and that—”
Joey sighed heavily, running his hand through his shoulder length hair. “Fine, I get it. He’s been a total dick lately. Just, you freaking out on him isn’t helping shit.”
Frank shrugged, opening the fridge and pouring himself a glass of orange juice instead. “You babying him hasn’t done shit either. You notice when it all started?”
Joey thought back but couldn’t really pinpoint when Rob had started being quite so angry. A few years back he had gotten really defiant about mom pretending he was a girl but it had only been recent that the kid had started pulling these stupid and sometimes dangerous pranks.
“Well, I noticed,” Frank spoke up when Joey didn’t have an answer. “It started when he was passed over for that bit in the school play.”
Blinking, Joey nodded after a moment in agreement. That could have been about the time.
Frank poured him a much smaller glass of juice, handing it over. When Joey went to take the glass, Frank didn’t let go, meeting his brother’s eyes steadily. “The play you prep’d him for like two weeks straight. Where he kept making doe eyes at you until you were wrapped around his finger.”
Huffing in annoyance, Joey rolled his eyes. “Come on, man, he’s a good kid. Annoying at times but he’s—”
“Joey, he’s in love with you,” Frank interrupted curtly. “Head over fucking heels. Absolutely, completely smitten with you.”
Nostrils flaring, Joey put more pressure into his grip until Frank relented the glass. He drank it down like a shot, trying to ignore the way the cold liquid felt like lead in his gut, heat rising over his skin in an anxious wave. “That’s crazy,” he finally said after the silence had stretched on too long, his voice gruff.
Frank was unaffected, looking completely at ease. “It’s pretty obvious. Robyn threw that hissy when you started dating that chick from the next town over. He sulked the entire time, you know, when he wasn’t spreading rumors about the three of us and hiding all our fucking shit. Dan figured it out before I did,” he added as if Dan thinking the same thing confirmed it all. “I was ready to hold the little brat out of a window by his ankles until Dan spoke up.”
“This is crazy,” Joey muttered, turning and rinsing his glass to give him something to do with his hands while his mind reeled. He glared over his shoulder, his expression full of accusation. “You’re just saying this shit to get me to agree to whatever terrible you’re about to do.”
“He loves you, Joe. He was auditioning for the role of a chick—”
“There weren’t any male roles!”
“Yet he still wanted to be in the fucking play,” Frank replied, his eyes narrowed on the way his brother’s face was flushed in anger. “Believe me, Robyn is in need of facing some facts about himself and that is not going to happen if you don’t face the fact that our little bro wants your dick. Bad.”
Glaring stonily out the small window that looked into their backyard, Joey held his tongue. There had been times, glances, sometimes hugs that had gone a little too long that had made him wonder. But that had been a while ago and he had told himself it had all been in his head.
“He doesn’t,” Joey said, sighing softly. “He really doesn’t and you’re going to freak him out if you suggest such a thing. The kid is angry enough, Frank.”
Giving his younger brother a calculating look, Frank tilted his head, indicating Joey should follow. After a moment, Joey did, dragging his feet as they walked down the hall past the bathroom, stopping in front of Rob’s room. There was a pretty pink unicorn superglued to the boy’s door covered in swipes of black sharpie. One of Dan’s jokes after Rob had deliberately erased one of his video game saves. Mom had set aside a room just for the girl she had always wanted. Instead, her Robyn had been born a Rob and the woman had still insisted her youngest get a room of his own. It used to be all pink until Rob had finally put his foot down a few years back.
Frank pushed the door open, stalking immediately to Rob’s backpack. The room was painted a mellow sage green, no remnants of the soft pink and white lace curtains their mother had inadvertently tormented her son with in view.
Maybe it had been all their faults. Just, Rob had never really seemed to mind. He used to like his pink clothes, used to like getting to wear socks with fun patterns and do twirls to show off his latest dress. It was really easy to forget that their little sister was a boy, especially when it was just so easy to make Robyn cry.
“Come on, Frank, don’t go through his stuff…” Joey trailed off, Frank pulling out the empty bag of sugar from Rob’s pack. Gnawing on his lip, Joey didn’t say anything when Frank turned the bag over, searching for whatever evidence he was determined to find. He looked around the room again, taking in the posters on the wall Rob had started putting up. Most were of girls in elaborate, funky clothes from school girl outfits combined with combat boots and crazy, sparkling pigtails to a wall dedicated to leather, gothed out vamp girls. They had a subtle sexuality to them, very subtle when compared to some of the posters Frank kept on his side of their shared room. Rob was young in a lot of ways still, Joey reminded of it at every turn.
Grunting, Frank continued his search, finding what he was looking for deep in the pages of Rob’s math book.
Joey sighed heavily when Frank held up the photo that had been carefully hidden away, his own face staring back in a quiet, easy-smiling pose. Fuck.
A Brothercest Erotica
Exclusive Library
Nick has had a crush on his older brother for as long as he could remember. Justin is just so perfect; handsome, strong with blond hair and blue eyes. It’s impossible to look anywhere else. Nick never thought he’d ever tell his brother how he felt. That was until Justin went on a school trip out of country and Nick got lonely and really drunk.
Now Nick has no idea just how bad he’s ruined their lives, just that it’s going to be a horror show when his straightlaced, protective brother comes home and tells their parents just how much of a freak his little brother is. Determined to hide away for the rest of the summer, Nick finds himself sneaking back into their room for a sweatshirt and one final goodbye to his brother.
Disclaimer: This gay brothercest romance contains explicit sex and graphic language between adults in an incestuous relationship.
12,000+ wrds, Published May 1, 2016.
Heat level: X
Holy shit this was hot! Excuse my language but there’s just no way I can hold back the excitement I am still feeling for this. So Imma go straight for the jugular to anyone going through reviews wondering if they should give this try.
Read it. Read it. Read it. Read it. Read it. Read it. No joke, seriously, read it.
It runs around the range of 11,000 words. I was able to read it all in one sitting. Just try it even if incest isn’t your thing, cause hey it isn’t mine either. Just remember this is a work of fiction. You seriously need to read this.
Justin’s getting back today and I’m a mess. My hands keep shaking and my stomach is clenched so tight that I’m afraid I’m going to be sick. To top it off, I’m so hard I can’t bear it. I don’t know what he’ll do if he rejects me. I don’t know what he’ll do if he doesn’t and he…
Fuck, what was I thinking?
Hiding in the backyard by my favorite rock among the maple trees, I take a deep breath and try not to freak like a total, well, freak. I shouldn’t have emailed him. God, it was the most stupidest fucking thing I could have done. Why do I do these things to myself? He’s going to hate me. I know it.
I just don’t know what to do anymore.
My brother Justin has been gone for a month on a college trip to Europe. He’s older than me, smarter, stronger—Pretty much everything I fail at. I can play a great RPG and party every Friday night but I’m never going to be an athlete like Justin or even a scholar. But I don’t mind. I’m not competing with him—He’s never had anything bad to say about me. No, he’s the nicest fucking guy there is and I think I just ruined our entire relationship with one fucked up, drunk email.
I was really drunk last night when I sent it, but I hadn’t written the email then. No, when I first wrote those damning words I was sober, horny, and out of my fucking mind with grief. He had left. Not just the house but the entire fucking country. There was an entire continent between me and my brother and I just couldn’t fucking handle it. Still. Still, I can’t handle it. I don’t know when I got this way but it seems to be something unwilling to fade now that it’s taken me over.
I never meant to send him the email. It was one of those stupid things you write to get it out of your head and never think about it again. My fantasy. What I want him to do to me. What I’ve been dreaming about for god only knows how long because I can’t remember a time when I didn’t want him.
That I sent it to him makes me more of a monster than having lived with the feelings inside for so long. Because now I’ve tainted him with this sickness in me. If you knew Justin, you’d understand just how terrible a thing that is. He’s perfect. Blond hair, blue eyes, broad shoulders and a wide smile. He wasn’t made to be tarnished but to shine.
Me, well, I might look really similar to my brother, just shorter and slim to his muscular build but I never had a problem being his shadow. There’s a darkness in me. I’m okay with that. It just wasn’t ever supposed to touch him.
The words are burned into my retinas; clear, concise plans to destroy everything we are as brothers. How he slips into my bed while I sleep, my body naked, my hole already stretched and oiled for him. His hands would be rough, large as they move over me, down my body while he spoons against my back. I’ll wake up but I won’t speak—No, that would be too dangerous, speaking at a time like that. But he’ll know from the way I breathe, the way I push back against him that a part of me is dying from knowing he’s so close yet not inside me.
Hell. I’m way too horny for my life to be about to end.
Biting my lip, I glance around to see just how visible I am to the neighbor’s house through the trees and their dividing fence. It’s getting late, the sun starting to set. My parents already left for the airport half an hour ago. The city is a long drive and Justin’s plane won’t get in until late… Fuck, this is ridiculous. I haven’t even seen him yet, haven’t seen him in a month, I’m worried he’s going to hate me, yet I’m so fucking hard.
Groaning, I run my palm down the front of my jeans, pressing against my erection, my hips rocking up for more. God, I should go inside. Just… Just, if I do, I’ll go looking for his picture and now is really not the time to be jerking off to my sexy-ass brother’s picture. Holding my breath, I slowly unzip and slide my hands down my navel and into my boxers, grasping my hard dick firmly.
I’ve thought of it so many times, how he’d take me. I think at this point he wouldn’t even have to—Just him behind me in the dark whispering in my ear could be enough to get me off. I don’t know if it’s because it’s supposed to be ‘wrong’ or if it’s just because it’s Justin—gorgeous, muscular and all sexy—but every time I think of him finally touching me, my body just goes crazy.
My breath coming out in loud, harsh pants, I move my hand down after a few long strokes, probing fingers into my crack. Fuck, I must be losing it, touching myself in the goddamn backyard. It doesn’t get much more degenerate than this. Well, besides trying to get my brother to join me.
“Oh, fuck.” Gasping when I find my rim, I spread my legs wider around my jeans, my knees bent up and wide, thighs tense as I wiggle my hips to get a better angle. Precum is wetting the front of my t-shirt where it’s resting against my hard flushed tip but I can’t care. Need it. God, I need it so bad. Exhaling sharply as my finger slides into my hole, I immediately add a second and start fucking myself on my digits.
Justin’s big—Big hands, big biceps, and a thick, long dick I’ve been dreaming of. There’s no way it wouldn’t break me and fuck, I want it to. I want him to fuck me so deep, so wide that I won’t ever recover. I want him to own me with his cock, take me whenever, however. Just as long as he’s doing it to me, I’d be happy.
My passage clenches, my body protesting how narrow and short my fingers are compared to what I really want. Sweat drips down my face and slicks my taut stomach, my breath nearly lost. I lean back against the tree trunk and rock my hips up, driving my fingers deeper into my hole, thrusting again and again while choking back each soft moan. I love the friction of my knuckles in my unlubed passage, love the edge of pain that makes it feel real.
I want it to be real with him. I want it to be rough and raw and so fucking real—Something more powerful than the insanity inside me. His cock, his cum. My brother’s seed filling me the way I need it.
“Yes… Fuck, yes,” I whimper, slamming down on my hand, trying to grind in deeper while digging my sneakers into the dirt for leverage. I don’t even need to touch my prostate for this, don’t need to touch my dick. Just thinking of my big brother wrapped around my back, pushing his thick cock into me in the dark is all I need. Fucking me, telling me he wants me, loves me…
Biting my lip hard, I come, muffling my cry as my cum streams jerking spurts onto the underside of my shirt and drips down my dick.
“Fuck,” I gasp loudly, my body trembling, hole still clenching in aftershock around my fingers. “Fuck.”
God, I’m so fucked up. Ruined my relationship with my bro with one fucking email and my answer is to jerk off while thinking of him. Brilliant.
My cum growing cool against my skin, I slowly extract my fingers from my hole, grunting once they’re finally free. I carefully zip up, folding my shirt to keep my jeans from getting jizz all over the material. I want to get up but I’m worried I’m just going to end up on my hands and knees, pants down my thighs and fingers in my hole again while I think about him fucking me.
I would bend over for him. Would get on my knees, spread my legs wide and let him do anything he wanted. Part of me wants him to be gentle, to be as loving as I need him to be to make this crazy finally cool. But another part, the louder part, just wants my brother to take me—Hard, relentless, with a fire that can only match what I need from him.
It doesn’t matter. It will never happen—It should never happen. I don’t know if he’s already read the email or will once the plane lands. Either way, I know he’ll never speak to me again.
Groaning, I hunch forward and wrap my arms around my knees. I try to let the fading sunshine fill my senses, night soon approaching. All I can feel is the cold coming to steal my happiness away.
It’s going to be so awful. When he yells at me—He’ll hate me. He’s going to hate me and I don’t want to face that. Maybe I can go over Andy’s tonight. Maybe I can sleep over and delay this whole fucking mess for at least one night.
God, I’m so fucking stupid. What will mom and dad say? Will Justin tell?
Anxiety is like a nauseating wave in my body, fueling me more thoroughly than my guilt. That I’m getting hard again, too—God, I’m so messed up. I want him to know. Want him to want me and know. But he doesn’t and I’m just a colossal idiot with an unbearable crush on my big brother.