Harry's Hot Healer
Title: Harry's Hot Healer
Rating: NC 17
Content: Office sex
Word Count: 1,095
Author's note: Written for hogwarts365 Prompt 98: Pain in inevitable, suffering is optional; World
Summary: Harry has the hots for his Healer
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. This was written for fun, not profit.
Long, slim fingers glided across his shin. The slightest bit of pressure, soothing away the strain of his muscles. Gentle rubbing motions, kneading at a tightened muscle.
Harry bit his lip to suppress a moan.
This was hell.
“It’s not that bad, Potter,” Draco remarked, resuming the tantalising treatment. “Just ten more minutes and you can go back to destroying your body, I promise.”
Harry clenched his jaw and offered a nod.
It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate Malfoy’s efforts. He was a brilliant Field Healer and the Chudley Cannons were lucky to have him. He was smart, considerate and surprisingly patient with Harry’s frankly ridiculous number of injuries per match. He also looked like a walking wet dream in that white coat and those nerdy glasses.
No, the problem was that Harry appreciated Malfoy’s efforts a little too much. And to have the object of his fantasies sitting two feet from him, running those talented hands up and down his leg...Harry thunked his head against the wall and emitted a whine of pure misery.
“Potter, stop moping,” Malfoy scolded. “Remember: pain is inevitable, suffering is optional. Now stretch for me, please.”
Harry gaped at him. “I...what?”
Malfoy’s brow furrowed. “Your leg,” he repeated slowly.
Harry felt a violent blush rising to his face but he obediently stretched his leg. Malfoy trailed a hand up to cup his knee and pressed down gently. Harry hissed in relief as his muscles finally relaxed under the strain.
“Good,” Malfoy commented, finally letting go. “You should be fine now. Take the Potion I gave you yesterday, just in case. We don’t want a relapse or you’ll be here all week.”
Privately, Harry wasn’t so sure a relapse would be so awful. He couldn’t think of anything he wanted more in the world than to just let the hot Healer rub those magic hands all over him forever. But this was Malfoy and it was never going to happen.
“I guess we’re done then,” Malfoy said suddenly.
Harry tried to hide his disappointment. Malfoy had just basically told him to shove off. “I guess I’ll see you next week then,” he mumbled, before turning tail and fleeing the office.
****
Draco slammed the door shut. He swiped a shaky hand through his hair and sagged against the door.
Damn it.
Had he noticed? Surely, he must have noticed. Not for the first time, he cursed himself for harbouring this stupid crush. On Potter, of all people! Potter who had once been his arch rival, who was a Seeker with a premier Quidditch League, who could have anyone he wanted.
No good would ever come out of this. Draco slipped back in his chair. It had taken everything he had to maintain a calm and professional demeanour during Potter’s session. But the thought of those muscular legs, his hands gliding down sun-kissed skin, the soft gasps of relief Potter made when Draco worked a particularly stubborn knot...
Draco groaned and buried his face in his hands. He couldn’t do this anymore. This ridiculous fantasy had gone on long enough. He was a Healer, for Merlin’s sake! First thing tomorrow, he was handing over Potter’s case to another medic and that would be the end of that.
But until then...
Draco hesitated for two brief seconds before giving into temptation and undoing the fly of his trousers. He groaned and fisted his shaft almost viciously. His mind ran rampant with thoughts of Potter and his stupid, toned legs. Draco picked up the pace, letting his head fall back as he indulged himself. He was going to hell anyway, it’s not like one lonely wank could hurt...
The door opened.
Draco froze in sheer horror, hand still down his pants.
“Hey, sorry,” Potter rambled, barging in. “I forgot my...”
His eyes widened. His jaw dropped. His cheeks coloured and he took an instinctive step back.
Draco could do nothing but stare; his mind had shut down in a panicked fog.
Potter saw. Potter knew.
This was so very bad.
Draco’s brain was shorting out, playing on an infinite loop of mortification and horror and Potter was still standing there, looking like he’d caught a Bludger to the head. Draco swallowed. He had to explain, say something. Anything!
“I...Potter, I can...”
That was as far as he got before Potter shut the door and cast a Locking Charm.
****
Harry barely registered the door closing. The spell had been instinctive, he wasn’t even sure he’d actually cast it. Now he was just standing there, gaping like an idiot as Malfoy righted himself. His cheeks were flushed, his hair was tousled. He looked nothing like the aloof, collected Healer Harry had lusted after all these weeks.
And the sight of Malfoy, lolling back in the chair with a hand wrapped around his cock...Harry swallowed as the memory played on an infinite loop.
Had he ever seen anything hotter?
No, he didn’t think so.
“I can explain,” Malfoy blurted again.
Harry jerked back to reality. Suddenly, those sessions with Malfoy looked a lot different.
Malfoy’s fingers tracing his thighs, lingering over a pressure point, the way he avoided Harry’s eyes...and this. Malfoy jerking off in his office, Harry’s name on his lips...
A low growl built in his throat. He didn’t want an explanation. He wanted to shag his physiotherapist six ways to Sunday.
The next thing he knew he was charging at Malfoy, tearing at his clothes. Malfoy squeaked in surprise and Harry stilled with great effort, giving him a moment. But Malfoy just grabbed his head and pulled him back in a fierce kiss.
The world faded away to background noise as sensations assaulted him-nails raking his back, warm breath in his ear, soft skin under his hands and a clever tongue plying him with licks and nips. When Malfoy finally turned over and presented his arse, Harry thought he’d died and gone to heaven. After that it was nothing but low moans and breathy murmurs and the heady rush of pleasure as he thrust into that hot, slick entrance.
Malfoy came with a high cry. His hips spasmed. It was enough to push Harry over the edge. He groaned and his hips stuttered. He came with a growl and collapsed, ignoring Draco’s moan of protest.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then Harry roused himself from the afterglow with a tired groan.
“Hey,” he mumbled. “Think you can pencil me in for another session?”
“Now?” Draco blinked sleepily. “Why?”
Harry winced as his thigh muscles twinged.
“I think I pulled something.”
Rating: NC 17
Content: Office sex
Word Count: 1,095
Author's note: Written for hogwarts365 Prompt 98: Pain in inevitable, suffering is optional; World
Summary: Harry has the hots for his Healer
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. This was written for fun, not profit.
Long, slim fingers glided across his shin. The slightest bit of pressure, soothing away the strain of his muscles. Gentle rubbing motions, kneading at a tightened muscle.
Harry bit his lip to suppress a moan.
This was hell.
“It’s not that bad, Potter,” Draco remarked, resuming the tantalising treatment. “Just ten more minutes and you can go back to destroying your body, I promise.”
Harry clenched his jaw and offered a nod.
It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate Malfoy’s efforts. He was a brilliant Field Healer and the Chudley Cannons were lucky to have him. He was smart, considerate and surprisingly patient with Harry’s frankly ridiculous number of injuries per match. He also looked like a walking wet dream in that white coat and those nerdy glasses.
No, the problem was that Harry appreciated Malfoy’s efforts a little too much. And to have the object of his fantasies sitting two feet from him, running those talented hands up and down his leg...Harry thunked his head against the wall and emitted a whine of pure misery.
“Potter, stop moping,” Malfoy scolded. “Remember: pain is inevitable, suffering is optional. Now stretch for me, please.”
Harry gaped at him. “I...what?”
Malfoy’s brow furrowed. “Your leg,” he repeated slowly.
Harry felt a violent blush rising to his face but he obediently stretched his leg. Malfoy trailed a hand up to cup his knee and pressed down gently. Harry hissed in relief as his muscles finally relaxed under the strain.
“Good,” Malfoy commented, finally letting go. “You should be fine now. Take the Potion I gave you yesterday, just in case. We don’t want a relapse or you’ll be here all week.”
Privately, Harry wasn’t so sure a relapse would be so awful. He couldn’t think of anything he wanted more in the world than to just let the hot Healer rub those magic hands all over him forever. But this was Malfoy and it was never going to happen.
“I guess we’re done then,” Malfoy said suddenly.
Harry tried to hide his disappointment. Malfoy had just basically told him to shove off. “I guess I’ll see you next week then,” he mumbled, before turning tail and fleeing the office.
****
Draco slammed the door shut. He swiped a shaky hand through his hair and sagged against the door.
Damn it.
Had he noticed? Surely, he must have noticed. Not for the first time, he cursed himself for harbouring this stupid crush. On Potter, of all people! Potter who had once been his arch rival, who was a Seeker with a premier Quidditch League, who could have anyone he wanted.
No good would ever come out of this. Draco slipped back in his chair. It had taken everything he had to maintain a calm and professional demeanour during Potter’s session. But the thought of those muscular legs, his hands gliding down sun-kissed skin, the soft gasps of relief Potter made when Draco worked a particularly stubborn knot...
Draco groaned and buried his face in his hands. He couldn’t do this anymore. This ridiculous fantasy had gone on long enough. He was a Healer, for Merlin’s sake! First thing tomorrow, he was handing over Potter’s case to another medic and that would be the end of that.
But until then...
Draco hesitated for two brief seconds before giving into temptation and undoing the fly of his trousers. He groaned and fisted his shaft almost viciously. His mind ran rampant with thoughts of Potter and his stupid, toned legs. Draco picked up the pace, letting his head fall back as he indulged himself. He was going to hell anyway, it’s not like one lonely wank could hurt...
The door opened.
Draco froze in sheer horror, hand still down his pants.
“Hey, sorry,” Potter rambled, barging in. “I forgot my...”
His eyes widened. His jaw dropped. His cheeks coloured and he took an instinctive step back.
Draco could do nothing but stare; his mind had shut down in a panicked fog.
Potter saw. Potter knew.
This was so very bad.
Draco’s brain was shorting out, playing on an infinite loop of mortification and horror and Potter was still standing there, looking like he’d caught a Bludger to the head. Draco swallowed. He had to explain, say something. Anything!
“I...Potter, I can...”
That was as far as he got before Potter shut the door and cast a Locking Charm.
****
Harry barely registered the door closing. The spell had been instinctive, he wasn’t even sure he’d actually cast it. Now he was just standing there, gaping like an idiot as Malfoy righted himself. His cheeks were flushed, his hair was tousled. He looked nothing like the aloof, collected Healer Harry had lusted after all these weeks.
And the sight of Malfoy, lolling back in the chair with a hand wrapped around his cock...Harry swallowed as the memory played on an infinite loop.
Had he ever seen anything hotter?
No, he didn’t think so.
“I can explain,” Malfoy blurted again.
Harry jerked back to reality. Suddenly, those sessions with Malfoy looked a lot different.
Malfoy’s fingers tracing his thighs, lingering over a pressure point, the way he avoided Harry’s eyes...and this. Malfoy jerking off in his office, Harry’s name on his lips...
A low growl built in his throat. He didn’t want an explanation. He wanted to shag his physiotherapist six ways to Sunday.
The next thing he knew he was charging at Malfoy, tearing at his clothes. Malfoy squeaked in surprise and Harry stilled with great effort, giving him a moment. But Malfoy just grabbed his head and pulled him back in a fierce kiss.
The world faded away to background noise as sensations assaulted him-nails raking his back, warm breath in his ear, soft skin under his hands and a clever tongue plying him with licks and nips. When Malfoy finally turned over and presented his arse, Harry thought he’d died and gone to heaven. After that it was nothing but low moans and breathy murmurs and the heady rush of pleasure as he thrust into that hot, slick entrance.
Malfoy came with a high cry. His hips spasmed. It was enough to push Harry over the edge. He groaned and his hips stuttered. He came with a growl and collapsed, ignoring Draco’s moan of protest.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then Harry roused himself from the afterglow with a tired groan.
“Hey,” he mumbled. “Think you can pencil me in for another session?”
“Now?” Draco blinked sleepily. “Why?”
Harry winced as his thigh muscles twinged.
“I think I pulled something.”