LeoPalooza Secret Santa gift
To: stellamoon
From: enchanted_jae
Title: Pleasant Dreams, Potter
Gift: Fic
Rating: R
Word Count: 3250
Summary: Harry must share a hotel room with Draco Malfoy for the duration of the Quidditch World Cup.
"Here we are," Malfoy said with entirely too much cheer. "Home sweet hotel for the next few weeks!"
Harry sighed in disgust and tossed his bag on the nearest bed. He hadn't been surprised when Draco Malfoy had been chosen as the alternate Seeker for England's team in the Quidditch World Cup. However, learning he and Malfoy were expected to share a hotel room for the duration of their stay in Milan had been a nasty shock. Harry didn't see much of Malfoy these days, except when their teams met during league play. Being forced into close quarters with the bane of his teenage years left Harry feeling surly.
"Godiva truffles!" exclaimed Malfoy, pouncing on the foil-wrapped candy that had been left on his pillow. He unwrapped the dark chocolate, popped it in his mouth, and moaned.
Harry's pants grew tight, and he busied himself with opening his luggage.
"You won't mind if I have yours, too," Malfoy said, rather than asked. "There's a good chap."
Harry looked up from unpacking his bag to see his truffle meet the same fate as the first one. "Oi!" he protested. "I wanted that!"
"You're welcome to kiss me if you want a taste," smirked Malfoy.
Harry gritted his teeth and turned away.
~*~
"What are you doing?"
Malfoy didn't pause in his current activity. "I'm changing the sheets on my bed."
"You brought your own sheets from home?" Harry asked in disbelief.
"I refuse to sleep on anything but the finest Egyptian cotton sheets, made of the highest possible thread-count," sniffed Malfoy. A flick and a swish of his wand had his bed newly made in the hunter green sheets he had brought with him.
"Wouldn't you prefer silk sheets?" sneered Harry, scrunching his shoulders to get more comfortable against his pillows.
Malfoy finished placing the rest of the blankets on his bed before he answered. "While silk sheets may feel good, Potter, it's devilishly difficult to clean spunk from them."
Harry's cock perked up at the mention of spunk, and he cursed and turned his back on Malfoy. This was going to be a long tournament.
~*~
The team had spent the morning familiarizing themselves with the pitch, and they had followed that up with a grueling afternoon practice. They'd had dinner together in one of the hotel's banquet rooms before being allowed to return to their rooms to rest.
Harry was knackered, and all he wanted to do was go to bed. However, a visit to the loo was necessary first. Unfortunately, Malfoy had disappeared in there fifteen minutes ago, and he was still inside.
Harry banged on the door. "Hurry up, will you?" he yelled.
"Piss off!"
"What are you doing in there?" Harry demanded.
"I'm taking a bubble bath!"
Unbidden, an image of Malfoy wearing nothing but a film of bubbles popped into Harry's mind, and he let his head thunk against the door.
"The door is open," Malfoy said. "Come in and do your business, if it's that urgent."
It was an excellent suggestion, but a bad idea. Nevertheless, Harry did have urgent business to attend to. He could do this. He would simply ignore Malfoy while he used the lav. Squaring his shoulders, Harry pushed the door open and strode in as if he was quite accustomed to walking in on blokes in the bath. He kept his eyes averted as he stepped up to the stool and unzipped his trousers. His cock was semi-erect, but Harry couldn't do anything about that at the moment.
"Say, Potter, do you think I should have the team trainer take a look at this?"
Harry tensed, and his stream faltered. He finished his business, tucked and zipped, before turning slowly, reluctantly, to face his nemesis.
Malfoy was reclining in the bathtub with mounds of frothy bubbles preserving Harry's modesty. The waterline ended at his pecs, leaving his rosy nipples on display. Worst of all, however, was the long, toned leg that was elevated from the tub. Malfoy's hands were stroking his damp thigh, making Harry long to do the same.
"Look at what?" Harry managed to rasp.
Malfoy frowned. "This," he said, indicating a bruise on his thigh. "I took a Bludger this afternoon in practice. It didn't hurt at the time, but now it aches something awful."
Malfoy shifted in the tub, and Harry swore he saw the tip of his teammate's cock poking up through the layer of bubbles. He cleared his throat and turned away to wash his hands at the sink. Over his shoulder, Harry said, "If it's aching, then you should have the trainer look at it tomorrow morning."
"What if I told you that's not the only thing that aches?"
Harry hastily dried his hands and fled the bathroom, hoping for a wank before Malfoy emerged from his bubble bath.
~*~
Harry gazed at the erotic vision beneath him. Malfoy was lying upon black silk sheets, body bared and spread for Harry's pleasure, and Harry had every intention of pleasuring himself. He grasped his erect cock and guided it between Malfoy's legs, groaning in anticipation of burying himself in the slick, snug heat of Malfoy's body.
Malfoy was begging for it, the shameless slut. "Potter!" he cried. "Potter!"
"Potter!"
A hand was shaking Harry's shoulder, and he bolted upright, reaching for his wand.
"Take it easy, Potter," Malfoy rumbled. "It's only me."
Harry rubbed a hand over his face in the darkness. "What's going on?"
"You were having a nightmare," said Malfoy.
"A nightmare?" Harry repeated. That had been the best bloody dream he'd had in a long time!
Malfoy turned on the lamp between their beds and nodded. "You seemed to be in some distress," he said. "You were groaning, and your breathing was labored. Although," he added, wide eyes straying to the tented blankets over Harry's groin, "perhaps it wasn't such a bad dream after all."
Harry's face flamed with embarrassment, and he flicked the lamp off with an irritated wave of his hand. Once more, he turned his back on Malfoy, punching his pillow for good measure. Harry's body was thrumming with unsatisfied arousal, and he couldn't even wank with Malfoy in the same room. He heard a rustle behind him as Malfoy settled into bed again, followed by a sarcastic snicker.
"Pleasant dreams, Potter."
~*~
England won its first match rather handily, and the team went out to celebrate that evening. Harry sat as far away from Malfoy as he could manage. Nevertheless, he remained hyper-aware of everything the blond menace said or did. Harry was well aware of Malfoy's shameless flirting with Peter Pennfine, one of the team's Chasers. As a result, Harry was forced to wash the sour taste from his mouth with firewhiskey.
When it was time for the English contingent to leave the restaurant, Harry wasn't as steady on his feet as he normally was.
"Alright there, Potter?" chortled Pennfine.
Malfoy was at Harry's side in an instant. "I'll see that our star Seeker gets back to the hotel safely," he said. His announcement was greeted by laughter all around as the Quidditch players dispersed.
"I don't require your assistance, Malfoy," Harry bit out.
"Be that as it may, I still plan to Side-Along you back to the hotel," said Malfoy. "Wouldn't want you to splinch yourself."
Before Harry could form a scathing retort, he felt the familiar disorientation that accompanied Apparation. He stumbled against Malfoy, then straightened to find himself in their hotel room. "Thank you," he said stiffly.
"My pleasure," smirked Malfoy. "Do you need help undressing?"
"Why don't you go undress Pennfine?" Harry snapped. Embarrassed to have blurted that out, he turned his back on his infuriating teammate and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt.
Behind him, Malfoy barked out a laugh. "Jealous, Potter?" he taunted.
"Certainly not."
"Then you won't mind if I switch rooms this evening and spend the night with Pennfine?"
Harry spun around. "Hell yes, I mind!" he snarled. "You-you're supposed to be getting some sleep tonight. You and Pennfine, both," he added. "You're not meant to be shagging one another's brains out!"
Malfoy blinked at him before a sultry smile curled his lips. "But, I always sleep better after sex," he said. "You don't want me to lie here all night, tense and aching, do-mmpf."
Harry leaped forward and halted Malfoy's words by smothering that sassy mouth with his own. He had expected some resistance, but Malfoy melted into the kiss with a grateful moan. Alarms went off in Harry's head, but before he could withdraw from the impromptu snog, Malfoy's tongue darted out and traced the shape of his lips. Harry groaned and deepened the kiss. He speared his fingers into Malfoy's hair and thrust back with his own tongue. Harry slid one hand down Malfoy's body in a rough caress. He grabbed Malfoy's arse and tugged him into intimate contact, grinding his groin against the hard ridge of Malfoy's cock.
Malfoy took two stumbling steps back and fell onto his bed, dragging Harry down with him. The impact knocked the breath from Harry's lungs and some sense into his addled head. He wrenched free of the kiss and levered himself upright. Malfoy looked like a wet dream beneath him, all flushed cheeks, dilated pupils and swollen lips. Harry thrust against him involuntarily. Malfoy moaned and arched up.
With a muttered curse, Harry rolled off of Malfoy and tottered over to his own bed. He sank down on it and buried his head in his hands. "What am I doing?" he mumbled.
"Potter, if you don't get back here and finish what you started, this Seeker is going to seek out Pennfine."
Harry's head snapped up, and he sent a glare at his roommate. "You are going to go to bed--alone!--and get some sleep," he growled.
Malfoy flounced off his bed and stalked to the door of their room. When he went to leave, however, he was unable to open the door. Malfoy rounded on Harry. "Release that charm at once," he demanded.
"Shut your gob and get some sleep," said Harry, toeing off his shoes. "We have an early practice tomorrow."
"Bloody cock tease," spat Malfoy. He stomped back to his bed, stripped naked and lay down. Immediately, Malfoy's hand got busy as he pleasured himself.
Harry clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ached, but he refused to be baited. Instead, he turned out the lights with a wave of his hand. Unfortunately, he could still hear Malfoy wanking not three steps away from him. Harry's cock throbbed with jealousy; however, he wouldn't give Malfoy the satisfaction of knowing how aroused he was.
The sound of flesh on flesh from the next bed was punctuated with soft, rasping pants and a squeak of bed springs. The noise culminated in a satisfied groan, and all was quiet once more.
Harry's body remained tense and throbbing with unsatisfied arousal, and it didn't help matters when Malfoy yawned and then snickered, "Pleasant dreams, Potter."
~*~
Harry was still feeling the effects of frustrated lust the following morning. He wished he played a different position on the team so that he could work out his lingering aggression with some rough contact. Harry was so busy jealously watching the Chasers and Beaters scrimmage that he missed seeing the Snitch buzz past his head. It wasn't until Malfoy zipped toward Harry, body low over his broom and eyes intent on the prize, that Harry realized the Snitch was near. He turned his broom in time to see the small gold ball zoom away, and Harry belatedly gave chase.
It took some inspired flying on his part, but Harry finally drew even with Malfoy. Neck and neck, they pursued their target. Malfoy jostled Harry, and Harry smiled in grim satisfaction as he bumped the other Seeker in retaliation. At last, he could diffuse some of his anger and frustration, and who better to take it out on than the source of his malaise?
The two of them fought for position as they raced after the Snitch. Their tiny target remained just beyond their reach, taunting the two Seekers as it zigged and zagged, dipped and dove through the air. Harry was aware that they were now flying perilously close to the ground, but that had never impacted his pursuit of the Snitch before, and he wasn't about to let it affect him now. He pushed Malfoy with his left hand as his right reached for the Snitch. Malfoy reacted by kicking out, striking Harry in the thigh and causing his broom to spin out of control.
The last thing Harry saw was the ground rushing up to meet him.
~*~
Harry became aware of a throbbing pain in his head. The next thing he took notice of was the low buzz of voices nearby.
"...be fine with a couple days of bed rest."
"A couple days?!" squawked Coach Wellbrook. "We have an important match tomorrow!"
"Mr Potter did sustain a concussion. He needs time to heal. I believe you have a back-up Seeker, do you not?"
"Malfoy, you slimy git!" That was Oliver's voice. "You knocked Harry out on purpose, just so you could play!"
"I did not," Malfoy spat in denial. "I never intended to injure the ruddy bastard."
"Whether or not you meant it, you'll be playing in tomorrow's match," sighed Wellbrook.
"And you'd damn well better win it, Malfoy, or I'll snap you in half with my bare hands," snarled Oliver.
"Gentlemen, if you would please take your argument elsewhere? Mr Potter needs his rest."
"This is my room," said Malfoy. "Get out, Wood."
"I'm not leaving you alone with Harry!" snapped Oliver. "You can kip with Pennfine, and-"
"No."
All conversation in the room ceased as everyone turned to look at Harry. He had slitted his eyes open and was struggling to sit up.
The Healer swooped toward him. "Please calm yourself, Mr Potter," she said, placing a palm in the center of his chest.
"How do you feel, Potter?" boomed Wellbrook.
Harry winced at his coach's loud voice. "Like I've been dragged behind a herd of runaway thestrals," he groaned.
"Get some rest, Potter," said Wellbrook. "You'll have to sit out tomorrow's match, but Malfoy has promised to win it for you-"
"I did no such thing!"
"...and he wouldn't dare lose after slamming you headfirst into the pitch," continued Wellbrook. "Er, did you wish to switch roommates?" he added.
"No," Harry said again. He would have shaken his head if it hadn't weighed so much. "Don't disrupt the rest of the team," he muttered. "I don't believe Malfoy meant to harm me, and I can give him some advice later, when I feel better."
"Spoken like a true team player!" Wellbrook enthused. "Let's go, Wood. Potter needs to rest up a bit before he can give Malfoy some pointers." Their voices faded as they exited the hotel room.
"My room is at the end of the hall, if you need anything, Mr Potter," the Healer told him.
Harry thanked her, and she gathered her bag and left. With a grateful sigh, Harry sank back against the pillows.
There followed an awkward silence, until Malfoy broke it with a tentative, "I truly didn't mean for you to get injured, Potter."
"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry mumbled. "You make my head hurt."
~*~
Although confined to bed rest, Harry was able to watch the match on the telly in his room. Several times, the commentators alluded to the questionable circumstances surrounding the injury to Harry Potter. Harry clenched his teeth until his headache intensified. He knew Malfoy hadn't purposefully harmed him; they had simply been locked in a competitive race for the Snitch, much like their days at Hogwarts.
A smattering of boos greeted the announcement of Draco Malfoy as England's starting Seeker, but he bore it stoically. Harry was proud of his teammate for not letting the censure affect him. The match began, and Harry found himself sitting up in bed, alternately cheering and cursing. The score went back and forth, making it clear that the Seekers would decide the outcome. Eventually, the Snitch put in an appearance, leading Malfoy and the other Seeker on a wild chase. Harry's fingers twitched as he ached to grab the golden ball himself. Malfoy was doing some damn fine flying, and Harry felt his cock twitch in appreciation.
Malfoy executed a daring flip and snatched the Snitch just as the other Seeker was reaching for it. He pulled his broom up and pumped his fist in victory.
"YES!" shouted Harry, practically bouncing on his bed. His head throbbed in protest, and he sank back against the pillows and downed another draught of pain potion. Even his headache couldn't quell the grin on his face.
~*~
Harry was surprised when Malfoy returned to their shared hotel room barely an hour after the match. He rose from his bed, intending to shake Malfoy's hand and congratulate him, but one look at his teammate's sparkling eyes and flushed, happy face caused Harry to act impulsively. He grabbed Malfoy by his collar and hauled him into full-frontal contact. Malfoy's startled exclamation was muffled beneath the bruising pressure of Harry's lips.
Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Harry was waiting for Malfoy to push him away and possibly punch him in the face. Instead, Malfoy moaned and opened to Harry, returning the snog with reckless enthusiasm. Malfoy's tongue made the first foray, and Harry's eagerly darted out to meet it. They kissed until Harry's headache intensified from lack of oxygen. He raised his head and licked his lips.
"I thought you'd be out celebrating with the team," rasped Harry.
"I'd rather celebrate with you," said Malfoy, rubbing himself against Harry in a blatant display of lust.
It was wrong. They shouldn't. Harry grasped for a reason why not. "We're teammates," he tried.
"Not for much longer," Malfoy reasoned. He raised a leg and hooked his calf behind Harry's knees, striving to get closer. "We can go back to hating one another after the tournament."
"Bed rest," Harry gulped.
"Bed sounds brilliant," growled Malfoy, working his hands under Harry's over-sized T-shirt. "We can rest after." Malfoy pushed against him, and they both fell back on Harry's bed.
Harry's body reacted with a surge of arousal, and he panicked. "I have a headache!" he blurted.
"I'll be gentle," Malfoy purred, nibbling a wet trail down Harry's throat. "Just lie back and think of England."
"I'm a top!"
Malfoy raised his head. "Even better," he grinned, rolling them over so that Harry was sprawled atop him. "Shag me, Potter. I want it; I need it."
Harry's protests flew out the window. He'd never broken his personal no sex with teammates rule before, but as Malfoy had said, this was a temporary arrangement. As to his headache, it was dwarfed by the ache at his groin, and Harry's cock was clamoring to be let out to play. "To hell with it," he muttered, pawing at Malfoy's clothing.
~*~
"Mm," sighed Malfoy as Harry uncoupled them and rolled away. "For a Seeker, you certainly know how to Bludger a Quaffle."
Harry groaned at the horrible pun. "Malfoy, shut your gob," he rumbled. "You make my head hurt." Malfoy snickered and scooted close, winding his limbs around Harry like Devil's Snare. Harry was tempted to push Malfoy out of his bed, but it felt nice to have another body curled against his own. His eyes grew heavy and began to drift shut.
The last thing Harry heard was a whispered, "Pleasant dreams, Potter."
Cross-posted to leo_palooza
From: enchanted_jae
Title: Pleasant Dreams, Potter
Gift: Fic
Rating: R
Word Count: 3250
Summary: Harry must share a hotel room with Draco Malfoy for the duration of the Quidditch World Cup.
"Here we are," Malfoy said with entirely too much cheer. "Home sweet hotel for the next few weeks!"
Harry sighed in disgust and tossed his bag on the nearest bed. He hadn't been surprised when Draco Malfoy had been chosen as the alternate Seeker for England's team in the Quidditch World Cup. However, learning he and Malfoy were expected to share a hotel room for the duration of their stay in Milan had been a nasty shock. Harry didn't see much of Malfoy these days, except when their teams met during league play. Being forced into close quarters with the bane of his teenage years left Harry feeling surly.
"Godiva truffles!" exclaimed Malfoy, pouncing on the foil-wrapped candy that had been left on his pillow. He unwrapped the dark chocolate, popped it in his mouth, and moaned.
Harry's pants grew tight, and he busied himself with opening his luggage.
"You won't mind if I have yours, too," Malfoy said, rather than asked. "There's a good chap."
Harry looked up from unpacking his bag to see his truffle meet the same fate as the first one. "Oi!" he protested. "I wanted that!"
"You're welcome to kiss me if you want a taste," smirked Malfoy.
Harry gritted his teeth and turned away.
~*~
"What are you doing?"
Malfoy didn't pause in his current activity. "I'm changing the sheets on my bed."
"You brought your own sheets from home?" Harry asked in disbelief.
"I refuse to sleep on anything but the finest Egyptian cotton sheets, made of the highest possible thread-count," sniffed Malfoy. A flick and a swish of his wand had his bed newly made in the hunter green sheets he had brought with him.
"Wouldn't you prefer silk sheets?" sneered Harry, scrunching his shoulders to get more comfortable against his pillows.
Malfoy finished placing the rest of the blankets on his bed before he answered. "While silk sheets may feel good, Potter, it's devilishly difficult to clean spunk from them."
Harry's cock perked up at the mention of spunk, and he cursed and turned his back on Malfoy. This was going to be a long tournament.
~*~
The team had spent the morning familiarizing themselves with the pitch, and they had followed that up with a grueling afternoon practice. They'd had dinner together in one of the hotel's banquet rooms before being allowed to return to their rooms to rest.
Harry was knackered, and all he wanted to do was go to bed. However, a visit to the loo was necessary first. Unfortunately, Malfoy had disappeared in there fifteen minutes ago, and he was still inside.
Harry banged on the door. "Hurry up, will you?" he yelled.
"Piss off!"
"What are you doing in there?" Harry demanded.
"I'm taking a bubble bath!"
Unbidden, an image of Malfoy wearing nothing but a film of bubbles popped into Harry's mind, and he let his head thunk against the door.
"The door is open," Malfoy said. "Come in and do your business, if it's that urgent."
It was an excellent suggestion, but a bad idea. Nevertheless, Harry did have urgent business to attend to. He could do this. He would simply ignore Malfoy while he used the lav. Squaring his shoulders, Harry pushed the door open and strode in as if he was quite accustomed to walking in on blokes in the bath. He kept his eyes averted as he stepped up to the stool and unzipped his trousers. His cock was semi-erect, but Harry couldn't do anything about that at the moment.
"Say, Potter, do you think I should have the team trainer take a look at this?"
Harry tensed, and his stream faltered. He finished his business, tucked and zipped, before turning slowly, reluctantly, to face his nemesis.
Malfoy was reclining in the bathtub with mounds of frothy bubbles preserving Harry's modesty. The waterline ended at his pecs, leaving his rosy nipples on display. Worst of all, however, was the long, toned leg that was elevated from the tub. Malfoy's hands were stroking his damp thigh, making Harry long to do the same.
"Look at what?" Harry managed to rasp.
Malfoy frowned. "This," he said, indicating a bruise on his thigh. "I took a Bludger this afternoon in practice. It didn't hurt at the time, but now it aches something awful."
Malfoy shifted in the tub, and Harry swore he saw the tip of his teammate's cock poking up through the layer of bubbles. He cleared his throat and turned away to wash his hands at the sink. Over his shoulder, Harry said, "If it's aching, then you should have the trainer look at it tomorrow morning."
"What if I told you that's not the only thing that aches?"
Harry hastily dried his hands and fled the bathroom, hoping for a wank before Malfoy emerged from his bubble bath.
~*~
Harry gazed at the erotic vision beneath him. Malfoy was lying upon black silk sheets, body bared and spread for Harry's pleasure, and Harry had every intention of pleasuring himself. He grasped his erect cock and guided it between Malfoy's legs, groaning in anticipation of burying himself in the slick, snug heat of Malfoy's body.
Malfoy was begging for it, the shameless slut. "Potter!" he cried. "Potter!"
"Potter!"
A hand was shaking Harry's shoulder, and he bolted upright, reaching for his wand.
"Take it easy, Potter," Malfoy rumbled. "It's only me."
Harry rubbed a hand over his face in the darkness. "What's going on?"
"You were having a nightmare," said Malfoy.
"A nightmare?" Harry repeated. That had been the best bloody dream he'd had in a long time!
Malfoy turned on the lamp between their beds and nodded. "You seemed to be in some distress," he said. "You were groaning, and your breathing was labored. Although," he added, wide eyes straying to the tented blankets over Harry's groin, "perhaps it wasn't such a bad dream after all."
Harry's face flamed with embarrassment, and he flicked the lamp off with an irritated wave of his hand. Once more, he turned his back on Malfoy, punching his pillow for good measure. Harry's body was thrumming with unsatisfied arousal, and he couldn't even wank with Malfoy in the same room. He heard a rustle behind him as Malfoy settled into bed again, followed by a sarcastic snicker.
"Pleasant dreams, Potter."
~*~
England won its first match rather handily, and the team went out to celebrate that evening. Harry sat as far away from Malfoy as he could manage. Nevertheless, he remained hyper-aware of everything the blond menace said or did. Harry was well aware of Malfoy's shameless flirting with Peter Pennfine, one of the team's Chasers. As a result, Harry was forced to wash the sour taste from his mouth with firewhiskey.
When it was time for the English contingent to leave the restaurant, Harry wasn't as steady on his feet as he normally was.
"Alright there, Potter?" chortled Pennfine.
Malfoy was at Harry's side in an instant. "I'll see that our star Seeker gets back to the hotel safely," he said. His announcement was greeted by laughter all around as the Quidditch players dispersed.
"I don't require your assistance, Malfoy," Harry bit out.
"Be that as it may, I still plan to Side-Along you back to the hotel," said Malfoy. "Wouldn't want you to splinch yourself."
Before Harry could form a scathing retort, he felt the familiar disorientation that accompanied Apparation. He stumbled against Malfoy, then straightened to find himself in their hotel room. "Thank you," he said stiffly.
"My pleasure," smirked Malfoy. "Do you need help undressing?"
"Why don't you go undress Pennfine?" Harry snapped. Embarrassed to have blurted that out, he turned his back on his infuriating teammate and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt.
Behind him, Malfoy barked out a laugh. "Jealous, Potter?" he taunted.
"Certainly not."
"Then you won't mind if I switch rooms this evening and spend the night with Pennfine?"
Harry spun around. "Hell yes, I mind!" he snarled. "You-you're supposed to be getting some sleep tonight. You and Pennfine, both," he added. "You're not meant to be shagging one another's brains out!"
Malfoy blinked at him before a sultry smile curled his lips. "But, I always sleep better after sex," he said. "You don't want me to lie here all night, tense and aching, do-mmpf."
Harry leaped forward and halted Malfoy's words by smothering that sassy mouth with his own. He had expected some resistance, but Malfoy melted into the kiss with a grateful moan. Alarms went off in Harry's head, but before he could withdraw from the impromptu snog, Malfoy's tongue darted out and traced the shape of his lips. Harry groaned and deepened the kiss. He speared his fingers into Malfoy's hair and thrust back with his own tongue. Harry slid one hand down Malfoy's body in a rough caress. He grabbed Malfoy's arse and tugged him into intimate contact, grinding his groin against the hard ridge of Malfoy's cock.
Malfoy took two stumbling steps back and fell onto his bed, dragging Harry down with him. The impact knocked the breath from Harry's lungs and some sense into his addled head. He wrenched free of the kiss and levered himself upright. Malfoy looked like a wet dream beneath him, all flushed cheeks, dilated pupils and swollen lips. Harry thrust against him involuntarily. Malfoy moaned and arched up.
With a muttered curse, Harry rolled off of Malfoy and tottered over to his own bed. He sank down on it and buried his head in his hands. "What am I doing?" he mumbled.
"Potter, if you don't get back here and finish what you started, this Seeker is going to seek out Pennfine."
Harry's head snapped up, and he sent a glare at his roommate. "You are going to go to bed--alone!--and get some sleep," he growled.
Malfoy flounced off his bed and stalked to the door of their room. When he went to leave, however, he was unable to open the door. Malfoy rounded on Harry. "Release that charm at once," he demanded.
"Shut your gob and get some sleep," said Harry, toeing off his shoes. "We have an early practice tomorrow."
"Bloody cock tease," spat Malfoy. He stomped back to his bed, stripped naked and lay down. Immediately, Malfoy's hand got busy as he pleasured himself.
Harry clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ached, but he refused to be baited. Instead, he turned out the lights with a wave of his hand. Unfortunately, he could still hear Malfoy wanking not three steps away from him. Harry's cock throbbed with jealousy; however, he wouldn't give Malfoy the satisfaction of knowing how aroused he was.
The sound of flesh on flesh from the next bed was punctuated with soft, rasping pants and a squeak of bed springs. The noise culminated in a satisfied groan, and all was quiet once more.
Harry's body remained tense and throbbing with unsatisfied arousal, and it didn't help matters when Malfoy yawned and then snickered, "Pleasant dreams, Potter."
~*~
Harry was still feeling the effects of frustrated lust the following morning. He wished he played a different position on the team so that he could work out his lingering aggression with some rough contact. Harry was so busy jealously watching the Chasers and Beaters scrimmage that he missed seeing the Snitch buzz past his head. It wasn't until Malfoy zipped toward Harry, body low over his broom and eyes intent on the prize, that Harry realized the Snitch was near. He turned his broom in time to see the small gold ball zoom away, and Harry belatedly gave chase.
It took some inspired flying on his part, but Harry finally drew even with Malfoy. Neck and neck, they pursued their target. Malfoy jostled Harry, and Harry smiled in grim satisfaction as he bumped the other Seeker in retaliation. At last, he could diffuse some of his anger and frustration, and who better to take it out on than the source of his malaise?
The two of them fought for position as they raced after the Snitch. Their tiny target remained just beyond their reach, taunting the two Seekers as it zigged and zagged, dipped and dove through the air. Harry was aware that they were now flying perilously close to the ground, but that had never impacted his pursuit of the Snitch before, and he wasn't about to let it affect him now. He pushed Malfoy with his left hand as his right reached for the Snitch. Malfoy reacted by kicking out, striking Harry in the thigh and causing his broom to spin out of control.
The last thing Harry saw was the ground rushing up to meet him.
~*~
Harry became aware of a throbbing pain in his head. The next thing he took notice of was the low buzz of voices nearby.
"...be fine with a couple days of bed rest."
"A couple days?!" squawked Coach Wellbrook. "We have an important match tomorrow!"
"Mr Potter did sustain a concussion. He needs time to heal. I believe you have a back-up Seeker, do you not?"
"Malfoy, you slimy git!" That was Oliver's voice. "You knocked Harry out on purpose, just so you could play!"
"I did not," Malfoy spat in denial. "I never intended to injure the ruddy bastard."
"Whether or not you meant it, you'll be playing in tomorrow's match," sighed Wellbrook.
"And you'd damn well better win it, Malfoy, or I'll snap you in half with my bare hands," snarled Oliver.
"Gentlemen, if you would please take your argument elsewhere? Mr Potter needs his rest."
"This is my room," said Malfoy. "Get out, Wood."
"I'm not leaving you alone with Harry!" snapped Oliver. "You can kip with Pennfine, and-"
"No."
All conversation in the room ceased as everyone turned to look at Harry. He had slitted his eyes open and was struggling to sit up.
The Healer swooped toward him. "Please calm yourself, Mr Potter," she said, placing a palm in the center of his chest.
"How do you feel, Potter?" boomed Wellbrook.
Harry winced at his coach's loud voice. "Like I've been dragged behind a herd of runaway thestrals," he groaned.
"Get some rest, Potter," said Wellbrook. "You'll have to sit out tomorrow's match, but Malfoy has promised to win it for you-"
"I did no such thing!"
"...and he wouldn't dare lose after slamming you headfirst into the pitch," continued Wellbrook. "Er, did you wish to switch roommates?" he added.
"No," Harry said again. He would have shaken his head if it hadn't weighed so much. "Don't disrupt the rest of the team," he muttered. "I don't believe Malfoy meant to harm me, and I can give him some advice later, when I feel better."
"Spoken like a true team player!" Wellbrook enthused. "Let's go, Wood. Potter needs to rest up a bit before he can give Malfoy some pointers." Their voices faded as they exited the hotel room.
"My room is at the end of the hall, if you need anything, Mr Potter," the Healer told him.
Harry thanked her, and she gathered her bag and left. With a grateful sigh, Harry sank back against the pillows.
There followed an awkward silence, until Malfoy broke it with a tentative, "I truly didn't mean for you to get injured, Potter."
"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry mumbled. "You make my head hurt."
~*~
Although confined to bed rest, Harry was able to watch the match on the telly in his room. Several times, the commentators alluded to the questionable circumstances surrounding the injury to Harry Potter. Harry clenched his teeth until his headache intensified. He knew Malfoy hadn't purposefully harmed him; they had simply been locked in a competitive race for the Snitch, much like their days at Hogwarts.
A smattering of boos greeted the announcement of Draco Malfoy as England's starting Seeker, but he bore it stoically. Harry was proud of his teammate for not letting the censure affect him. The match began, and Harry found himself sitting up in bed, alternately cheering and cursing. The score went back and forth, making it clear that the Seekers would decide the outcome. Eventually, the Snitch put in an appearance, leading Malfoy and the other Seeker on a wild chase. Harry's fingers twitched as he ached to grab the golden ball himself. Malfoy was doing some damn fine flying, and Harry felt his cock twitch in appreciation.
Malfoy executed a daring flip and snatched the Snitch just as the other Seeker was reaching for it. He pulled his broom up and pumped his fist in victory.
"YES!" shouted Harry, practically bouncing on his bed. His head throbbed in protest, and he sank back against the pillows and downed another draught of pain potion. Even his headache couldn't quell the grin on his face.
~*~
Harry was surprised when Malfoy returned to their shared hotel room barely an hour after the match. He rose from his bed, intending to shake Malfoy's hand and congratulate him, but one look at his teammate's sparkling eyes and flushed, happy face caused Harry to act impulsively. He grabbed Malfoy by his collar and hauled him into full-frontal contact. Malfoy's startled exclamation was muffled beneath the bruising pressure of Harry's lips.
Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Harry was waiting for Malfoy to push him away and possibly punch him in the face. Instead, Malfoy moaned and opened to Harry, returning the snog with reckless enthusiasm. Malfoy's tongue made the first foray, and Harry's eagerly darted out to meet it. They kissed until Harry's headache intensified from lack of oxygen. He raised his head and licked his lips.
"I thought you'd be out celebrating with the team," rasped Harry.
"I'd rather celebrate with you," said Malfoy, rubbing himself against Harry in a blatant display of lust.
It was wrong. They shouldn't. Harry grasped for a reason why not. "We're teammates," he tried.
"Not for much longer," Malfoy reasoned. He raised a leg and hooked his calf behind Harry's knees, striving to get closer. "We can go back to hating one another after the tournament."
"Bed rest," Harry gulped.
"Bed sounds brilliant," growled Malfoy, working his hands under Harry's over-sized T-shirt. "We can rest after." Malfoy pushed against him, and they both fell back on Harry's bed.
Harry's body reacted with a surge of arousal, and he panicked. "I have a headache!" he blurted.
"I'll be gentle," Malfoy purred, nibbling a wet trail down Harry's throat. "Just lie back and think of England."
"I'm a top!"
Malfoy raised his head. "Even better," he grinned, rolling them over so that Harry was sprawled atop him. "Shag me, Potter. I want it; I need it."
Harry's protests flew out the window. He'd never broken his personal no sex with teammates rule before, but as Malfoy had said, this was a temporary arrangement. As to his headache, it was dwarfed by the ache at his groin, and Harry's cock was clamoring to be let out to play. "To hell with it," he muttered, pawing at Malfoy's clothing.
~*~
"Mm," sighed Malfoy as Harry uncoupled them and rolled away. "For a Seeker, you certainly know how to Bludger a Quaffle."
Harry groaned at the horrible pun. "Malfoy, shut your gob," he rumbled. "You make my head hurt." Malfoy snickered and scooted close, winding his limbs around Harry like Devil's Snare. Harry was tempted to push Malfoy out of his bed, but it felt nice to have another body curled against his own. His eyes grew heavy and began to drift shut.
The last thing Harry heard was a whispered, "Pleasant dreams, Potter."
Cross-posted to leo_palooza