DracoTopsHarry Fest fic: Uncivilized
Title: Uncivilized
Author: enchanted_jae
Prompt: #87 - Draco knows he probably should NOT be spending the majority of his workday fantasizing about bending his boss over his desk. But really, it's not his fault Potter's got such a fuckable arse.
Summary: Draco's boss brings out his uncivilized side.
Rating: NC17
Warning(s): Warning(s): (highlight for details): *light dub-con, profanity*
Word Count: 2230
Author's Notes: A thousand thanks to spicykittins for the beta job.
When Potter finally deigned to put in an appearance at the office, Draco cast a discreet Tempus. His boss was only twenty minutes late, which was rather punctual, for him. Potter was busy nattering into his confounded Muggle telly-fone, too busy to even nod in Draco's general direction.
Draco stabbed his quill into the inkwell and finished writing up the report that Potter had assigned him to do. He stood up and marched over to Potter's desk and slapped the parchment down in front of his boss. "This requires your signature," Draco bit out.
"Hold on," Potter said into the telly-fone. He cradled the device between his ear and shoulder, picked up one of his Muggle pens and scrawled his signature.
"Aren't you going to read it first?" Draco asked.
Potter waved him off. "I trust your work," he said before resuming his conversation with the Muggle what's-it.
Draco should have been pleased; instead, he was annoyed. How could Potter trust his work if he didn't even read it? Draco snatched the document from Potter's desk and stalked back to his own. Working as the secretary to the Minister of Magical Games should have been an enjoyable occupation. Instead, Draco often found himself torn between strangling Potter and wanting to shag him over the nearest piece of furniture.
"Oh, I don't know," Potter was blathering on. "I'm not sure he's my type."
Draco perked up. He began to listen intently, all while pretending he wasn't listening at all. Potter may have been the bane of Draco's existence, but that didn't prevent Draco from fantasizing about him. Potter did have a fine arse, after all.
"Yes, I know I need a date for the Ministry ball, but Popplewell is boring," said Potter.
Draco snorted. He quickly disguised the sound with a discreet cough. Who was trying to talk Potter into going to the ball with Popplewell? The man wasn't simply boring, he was as dull as a dirty cauldron.
"Maybe I'll find my own date for the ball," Potter continued. His voice was taking on an edge of irritation. "I'll find the time. Yeah, we will. Listen, I have to go. I do have work to do, you know. Yeah, I'll see you later."
Potter finally put his telly-fone down. He scowled at it, as if the small device were to blame for all of his troubles.
Draco couldn't resist taunting him. "Problems, Potter?"
"Shut your gob and get busy, Malfoy."
"I've been busy, Potter," Draco said. "You would know that if you had shown up to your office on time for once."
Potter's jaw tightened. "If I wanted to listen to nagging, I'd be married."
"Married?! You can't even find a date," Draco scoffed.
"I can, too, find my own date, and stop listening to my conversations!"
"You need to stop carrying on personal conversations in the office, if you don't want me to overhear," Draco said. "It's not as if I can close my ears."
Unable to muster a convincing counter-argument, Potter settled for grumbling beneath his breath as he reached for a file and finally began to work.
Draco finished drafting another report that required Potter's signature. He rose from his seat and sauntered up to Potter's desk. Draco dropped the report and took a step back, waiting for his boss to sign it.
Potter sighed as if Draco had just asked him to sign in blood. He scowled as he skimmed the report. Potter reached for his quill. "Are you going to the Ministry ball, Malfoy?" he asked, dipping the quill into the inkwell.
"No."
Potter glanced up, surprise registering for an instant, before a smirk took over his face. "Because you can't find a date?" he taunted.
"Because I don't want to see any more of you than I already do," Draco drawled in response.
Potter's smirk slid off of his face. He signed the report, all but stabbing it with his quill.
Draco snatched the signed document from Potter before he could cause actual damage to it. He returned to his desk, smug with his victory.
Potter's blasted telly-fone rang again.
"Hello? No, I haven't reconsidered. Why don't you go to the ball with Popplewell? Ron probably wouldn't mind, so long as he got to stay home. I'm joking, Hermione. Yes. No. No. No! I already have a date, okay? Yes. Yes. Never mind. No. You don't know him. Gerald Symington."
Draco tensed. He knew of Symington, and all of it was bad.
"Listen, Hermione, I have to go," Potter was saying. "Yes. You, too. I'll talk to you this evening."
Draco turned his chair around and gave Potter a level stare.
Potter looked up and frowned. "What has your cock in a knot?" he snapped.
Draco leaned back and quirked a brow. "Symington, Potter?"
"Do you know him?"
"I know of him," said Draco. "Everyone does. The man has a certain reputation."
Instead of scowling some more, Potter leaned back in his chair and smiled. "I do know that," he said. "In fact, I'm counting on it."
"Counting on it?" Draco repeated. He found himself becoming irrationally angry. "What do you mean by that?"
"How thick can you be, Malfoy?"
Draco tossed his quill down, lest he snap it in his tightening grip. "Have you sunk so low that you'll fuck Symington?" he growled.
A muscle twitched in Potter's jaw. "What business is it of yours, whom I do or don't fuck?"
Draco opened his mouth, then reined himself in. He took a breath and picked up his quill again. "It's not," he replied, "but I didn't think the Great Harry Potter enjoyed sloppy seconds."
"Are you saying that you've slept with Symington?!"
"Certainly not," Draco sniffed. "I have better taste than that."
Potter slammed his palms down on his desk and stood up. "Pardon me, you snob," he snarled, "but I happen to be in the midst of a dry spell."
Potter's outburst was so shocking that Draco couldn't help himself. He threw his head back and laughed. Loudly. Draco's mirth was rudely interrupted when he had to duck to avoid the paperweight that Potter threw at him.
"You cunt, you could have killed me!" Draco exclaimed, surging to his feet.
"I meant to kill you, arsehole!"
There was something about Potter that brought out Draco's violent, uncivilized side. Instead of drawing his wand and challenging Potter to a proper duel, Draco picked up an inkwell and threw it at his boss.
Potter tried to angle away from the incoming missile, but it struck him on the shoulder. Ink splattered everywhere.
Draco had one, awful moment to realize he was going to be sacked, before Potter's face twisted into an expression of rage.
"That. Does. It," Potter hissed. He jumped up, on top of his desk, and launched an aerial attack.
Draco was caught by surprise. Potter slammed into him, causing Draco to hit the wall behind him with a resounding thud. His breath was expelled in a huff. Draco managed to free an arm and slug Potter in the gut. Potter grunted, and Draco allowed himself a vicious smirk. If he was going to lose his job, he intended to get his licks in first.
Potter reared back and aimed a punch at Draco's face. Draco jerked his head to the side, and Potter's fist met the wall.
"Fuck, that hurt!" Potter bellowed. His next punch clipped Draco's jaw.
Draco's teeth clacked together painfully. He wrapped his longer arms around Potter, pinning Potter's arms to his torso. Draco growled and pushed off from the wall, propelling Potter backwards. Potter collided with Draco's desk and fell back on it. Draco seized the advantage; he loomed over Potter and drew his fist back. Draco paused. He and Potter were both flushed and panting with exertion, and Draco became acutely aware of their position. He was standing between Potter's legs, and Potter was hard. Draco could feel it, just as surely as he felt his own cock throbbing in his pants.
"Are you enjoying this, Potter?" Draco taunted. "Do you like it rough?"
Potter propped himself up on his elbows and sneered. "Fuck you."
"How crass," chided Draco. He pressed his groin to Potter's. "Shall I fuck you, instead?" Draco only meant to rile Potter, and he was astounded when Potter licked his lips and raised his hips, fitting their groins more snugly together.
"Fuck," Draco breathed. "You do want it."
"Are you going to stand there with your mouth hanging open?" snapped Potter. "I don't have all day."
Draco's mind was buzzing with all of the reasons why this was an incredibly bad idea. He ignored sense and deftly unbuckled Potter's belt. Draco popped the metallic button at the top of Potter's fly and tugged the zip down. He reached inside, stroking Potter's cock through his pants and causing Potter to moan and arch up into the caress. Draco's pulse jumped with excitement. He was going to have sex with Harry Potter.
Draco withdrew his hand, drawing a groan of disappointment from Potter. He hastily unbuckled his belt and opened his fly, then took a step back.
Potter blinked up at him in apparent confusion. "What are you-"
"Stand up, turn around, and bend over the desk," Draco ordered tersely. He was pleasantly surprised when Potter complied instead of complaining. Once Potter was in position, Draco curled his fingers into the waistband of Potter's trousers and yanked them down, along with Potter's plain white pants. He was left staring at the taut perfection of Potter's arse. It seemed that recreational Quidditch agreed with Potter.
Potter turned his head and aimed a glare over one shoulder. "Did your dick fall off?"
Draco resisted the impulse to deliver a smack to Potter's delectable backside. Instead, Draco conjured some lubricant and stroked it up and down his cock. He smeared the excess over Potter's furled entrance.
"Ready, Potter?"
"Get on with it, Malfoy."
For once, Draco didn't mind following orders from his boss. He lined up his cock and thrust. Potter sucked in a startled breath, and Draco hesitated. Potter was known for his quick temper and quicker wand, after all. Potter exhaled noisily, then pushed back. Draco worked his way in deeper, groaning at the sensation of Potter's hole yielding to his cock.
"Ungh," Potter grunted. He stretched across Draco's desk and grabbed onto the opposite edge with both hands. "Fucking move, Malfoy."
Draco was getting tired of being bossed around by his boss. He pulled out to the tip and slammed back in. Potter hissed and dipped his spine, raising his arse in a blatant demand for more. The sight was so erotic and satisfying that Draco had to close his eyes briefly, lest he shoot his load too soon. He wanted to savor the opportunity to shag Potter. Draco intended to wring all the enjoyment out of it he could. He drew back again, pleased to feel Potter clenching around him. Draco thrust in and rolled his hips.
"Oh fuck," Potter groaned. "Harder, you ponce," he demanded.
Draco's lips drew back in a feral grin. He'd give Potter harder. Draco slid his cock out, teased Potter's rim with the tip, and then plunged in again. He began thrusting, fucking Potter like he'd fantasized about so many times. The office was filled with the sharp smack of flesh meeting flesh, grunts and groans, and the loud banging of the desk as it rocked back and forth under the force of the fierce activity taking place on it.
"Give me a hand, you selfish twat," Potter bit out.
Draco did as he was told, if only because he wanted to know that Harry Potter had come while Draco was balls deep inside of him. He worked a hand under Potter's body and took hold of Potter's cock. It was thick and pulsing in his grip. Draco managed to awkwardly jerk Potter's cock in tandem with his thrusts into Potter's hot hole.
Potter's voice got louder, and he was nearly bouncing up and down on his toes as he tried to keep up with Draco's movements. "Don't stop, Malfoy, don't stop! I'm almost there, almost...fuck, fuck, yes!"
Draco groaned when Potter's rim spasmed around him. His rhythm faltered, but he no longer cared. Now, it was just about getting off. Draco released Potter's prick and got a good grip on Potter's hips. He began pounding into his boss, driving the desk even farther across the floor. Draco's muscles grew taut. He slammed in deep one last time and gave a guttural, victorious yell as he spurted inside of Potter.
The stillness that followed was broken by the sound of their harsh breathing.
Potter recovered first. He jabbed back with an elbow, the blow glancing off of Draco's ribs. "Get off of me, Malfoy."
Draco pulled out quickly, and took a step back. He pulled his wand from his sleeve and flicked a refreshing charm over himself and Potter.
Potter stood up stiffly and dragged his pants and trousers back into place. He turned around and sneered.
Draco lifted his chin, prepared to face being sacked with the dignified disdain of his Malfoy upbringing.
Potter's chin jutted out. "Clean up your desk and get back to work," he growled. He then returned to his own desk.
Draco noted a slight hitch to Potter's gait, and he turned away before his boss could see him smirking. He used his wand to Vanish the evidence of Potter's pleasure, then Draco flicked his wand around, Summoning the parchment and papers that had scattered across the floor. He shoved his desk back where it belonged and sat down. Draco risked a glance at his boss.
Potter shifted in his chair and glared back at Draco. "We shall never speak of this again," he declared. "At least, not in the office."
Cross-posted to dracotops_harry
Author: enchanted_jae
Prompt: #87 - Draco knows he probably should NOT be spending the majority of his workday fantasizing about bending his boss over his desk. But really, it's not his fault Potter's got such a fuckable arse.
Summary: Draco's boss brings out his uncivilized side.
Rating: NC17
Warning(s): Warning(s): (highlight for details): *light dub-con, profanity*
Word Count: 2230
Author's Notes: A thousand thanks to spicykittins for the beta job.
When Potter finally deigned to put in an appearance at the office, Draco cast a discreet Tempus. His boss was only twenty minutes late, which was rather punctual, for him. Potter was busy nattering into his confounded Muggle telly-fone, too busy to even nod in Draco's general direction.
Draco stabbed his quill into the inkwell and finished writing up the report that Potter had assigned him to do. He stood up and marched over to Potter's desk and slapped the parchment down in front of his boss. "This requires your signature," Draco bit out.
"Hold on," Potter said into the telly-fone. He cradled the device between his ear and shoulder, picked up one of his Muggle pens and scrawled his signature.
"Aren't you going to read it first?" Draco asked.
Potter waved him off. "I trust your work," he said before resuming his conversation with the Muggle what's-it.
Draco should have been pleased; instead, he was annoyed. How could Potter trust his work if he didn't even read it? Draco snatched the document from Potter's desk and stalked back to his own. Working as the secretary to the Minister of Magical Games should have been an enjoyable occupation. Instead, Draco often found himself torn between strangling Potter and wanting to shag him over the nearest piece of furniture.
"Oh, I don't know," Potter was blathering on. "I'm not sure he's my type."
Draco perked up. He began to listen intently, all while pretending he wasn't listening at all. Potter may have been the bane of Draco's existence, but that didn't prevent Draco from fantasizing about him. Potter did have a fine arse, after all.
"Yes, I know I need a date for the Ministry ball, but Popplewell is boring," said Potter.
Draco snorted. He quickly disguised the sound with a discreet cough. Who was trying to talk Potter into going to the ball with Popplewell? The man wasn't simply boring, he was as dull as a dirty cauldron.
"Maybe I'll find my own date for the ball," Potter continued. His voice was taking on an edge of irritation. "I'll find the time. Yeah, we will. Listen, I have to go. I do have work to do, you know. Yeah, I'll see you later."
Potter finally put his telly-fone down. He scowled at it, as if the small device were to blame for all of his troubles.
Draco couldn't resist taunting him. "Problems, Potter?"
"Shut your gob and get busy, Malfoy."
"I've been busy, Potter," Draco said. "You would know that if you had shown up to your office on time for once."
Potter's jaw tightened. "If I wanted to listen to nagging, I'd be married."
"Married?! You can't even find a date," Draco scoffed.
"I can, too, find my own date, and stop listening to my conversations!"
"You need to stop carrying on personal conversations in the office, if you don't want me to overhear," Draco said. "It's not as if I can close my ears."
Unable to muster a convincing counter-argument, Potter settled for grumbling beneath his breath as he reached for a file and finally began to work.
Draco finished drafting another report that required Potter's signature. He rose from his seat and sauntered up to Potter's desk. Draco dropped the report and took a step back, waiting for his boss to sign it.
Potter sighed as if Draco had just asked him to sign in blood. He scowled as he skimmed the report. Potter reached for his quill. "Are you going to the Ministry ball, Malfoy?" he asked, dipping the quill into the inkwell.
"No."
Potter glanced up, surprise registering for an instant, before a smirk took over his face. "Because you can't find a date?" he taunted.
"Because I don't want to see any more of you than I already do," Draco drawled in response.
Potter's smirk slid off of his face. He signed the report, all but stabbing it with his quill.
Draco snatched the signed document from Potter before he could cause actual damage to it. He returned to his desk, smug with his victory.
Potter's blasted telly-fone rang again.
"Hello? No, I haven't reconsidered. Why don't you go to the ball with Popplewell? Ron probably wouldn't mind, so long as he got to stay home. I'm joking, Hermione. Yes. No. No. No! I already have a date, okay? Yes. Yes. Never mind. No. You don't know him. Gerald Symington."
Draco tensed. He knew of Symington, and all of it was bad.
"Listen, Hermione, I have to go," Potter was saying. "Yes. You, too. I'll talk to you this evening."
Draco turned his chair around and gave Potter a level stare.
Potter looked up and frowned. "What has your cock in a knot?" he snapped.
Draco leaned back and quirked a brow. "Symington, Potter?"
"Do you know him?"
"I know of him," said Draco. "Everyone does. The man has a certain reputation."
Instead of scowling some more, Potter leaned back in his chair and smiled. "I do know that," he said. "In fact, I'm counting on it."
"Counting on it?" Draco repeated. He found himself becoming irrationally angry. "What do you mean by that?"
"How thick can you be, Malfoy?"
Draco tossed his quill down, lest he snap it in his tightening grip. "Have you sunk so low that you'll fuck Symington?" he growled.
A muscle twitched in Potter's jaw. "What business is it of yours, whom I do or don't fuck?"
Draco opened his mouth, then reined himself in. He took a breath and picked up his quill again. "It's not," he replied, "but I didn't think the Great Harry Potter enjoyed sloppy seconds."
"Are you saying that you've slept with Symington?!"
"Certainly not," Draco sniffed. "I have better taste than that."
Potter slammed his palms down on his desk and stood up. "Pardon me, you snob," he snarled, "but I happen to be in the midst of a dry spell."
Potter's outburst was so shocking that Draco couldn't help himself. He threw his head back and laughed. Loudly. Draco's mirth was rudely interrupted when he had to duck to avoid the paperweight that Potter threw at him.
"You cunt, you could have killed me!" Draco exclaimed, surging to his feet.
"I meant to kill you, arsehole!"
There was something about Potter that brought out Draco's violent, uncivilized side. Instead of drawing his wand and challenging Potter to a proper duel, Draco picked up an inkwell and threw it at his boss.
Potter tried to angle away from the incoming missile, but it struck him on the shoulder. Ink splattered everywhere.
Draco had one, awful moment to realize he was going to be sacked, before Potter's face twisted into an expression of rage.
"That. Does. It," Potter hissed. He jumped up, on top of his desk, and launched an aerial attack.
Draco was caught by surprise. Potter slammed into him, causing Draco to hit the wall behind him with a resounding thud. His breath was expelled in a huff. Draco managed to free an arm and slug Potter in the gut. Potter grunted, and Draco allowed himself a vicious smirk. If he was going to lose his job, he intended to get his licks in first.
Potter reared back and aimed a punch at Draco's face. Draco jerked his head to the side, and Potter's fist met the wall.
"Fuck, that hurt!" Potter bellowed. His next punch clipped Draco's jaw.
Draco's teeth clacked together painfully. He wrapped his longer arms around Potter, pinning Potter's arms to his torso. Draco growled and pushed off from the wall, propelling Potter backwards. Potter collided with Draco's desk and fell back on it. Draco seized the advantage; he loomed over Potter and drew his fist back. Draco paused. He and Potter were both flushed and panting with exertion, and Draco became acutely aware of their position. He was standing between Potter's legs, and Potter was hard. Draco could feel it, just as surely as he felt his own cock throbbing in his pants.
"Are you enjoying this, Potter?" Draco taunted. "Do you like it rough?"
Potter propped himself up on his elbows and sneered. "Fuck you."
"How crass," chided Draco. He pressed his groin to Potter's. "Shall I fuck you, instead?" Draco only meant to rile Potter, and he was astounded when Potter licked his lips and raised his hips, fitting their groins more snugly together.
"Fuck," Draco breathed. "You do want it."
"Are you going to stand there with your mouth hanging open?" snapped Potter. "I don't have all day."
Draco's mind was buzzing with all of the reasons why this was an incredibly bad idea. He ignored sense and deftly unbuckled Potter's belt. Draco popped the metallic button at the top of Potter's fly and tugged the zip down. He reached inside, stroking Potter's cock through his pants and causing Potter to moan and arch up into the caress. Draco's pulse jumped with excitement. He was going to have sex with Harry Potter.
Draco withdrew his hand, drawing a groan of disappointment from Potter. He hastily unbuckled his belt and opened his fly, then took a step back.
Potter blinked up at him in apparent confusion. "What are you-"
"Stand up, turn around, and bend over the desk," Draco ordered tersely. He was pleasantly surprised when Potter complied instead of complaining. Once Potter was in position, Draco curled his fingers into the waistband of Potter's trousers and yanked them down, along with Potter's plain white pants. He was left staring at the taut perfection of Potter's arse. It seemed that recreational Quidditch agreed with Potter.
Potter turned his head and aimed a glare over one shoulder. "Did your dick fall off?"
Draco resisted the impulse to deliver a smack to Potter's delectable backside. Instead, Draco conjured some lubricant and stroked it up and down his cock. He smeared the excess over Potter's furled entrance.
"Ready, Potter?"
"Get on with it, Malfoy."
For once, Draco didn't mind following orders from his boss. He lined up his cock and thrust. Potter sucked in a startled breath, and Draco hesitated. Potter was known for his quick temper and quicker wand, after all. Potter exhaled noisily, then pushed back. Draco worked his way in deeper, groaning at the sensation of Potter's hole yielding to his cock.
"Ungh," Potter grunted. He stretched across Draco's desk and grabbed onto the opposite edge with both hands. "Fucking move, Malfoy."
Draco was getting tired of being bossed around by his boss. He pulled out to the tip and slammed back in. Potter hissed and dipped his spine, raising his arse in a blatant demand for more. The sight was so erotic and satisfying that Draco had to close his eyes briefly, lest he shoot his load too soon. He wanted to savor the opportunity to shag Potter. Draco intended to wring all the enjoyment out of it he could. He drew back again, pleased to feel Potter clenching around him. Draco thrust in and rolled his hips.
"Oh fuck," Potter groaned. "Harder, you ponce," he demanded.
Draco's lips drew back in a feral grin. He'd give Potter harder. Draco slid his cock out, teased Potter's rim with the tip, and then plunged in again. He began thrusting, fucking Potter like he'd fantasized about so many times. The office was filled with the sharp smack of flesh meeting flesh, grunts and groans, and the loud banging of the desk as it rocked back and forth under the force of the fierce activity taking place on it.
"Give me a hand, you selfish twat," Potter bit out.
Draco did as he was told, if only because he wanted to know that Harry Potter had come while Draco was balls deep inside of him. He worked a hand under Potter's body and took hold of Potter's cock. It was thick and pulsing in his grip. Draco managed to awkwardly jerk Potter's cock in tandem with his thrusts into Potter's hot hole.
Potter's voice got louder, and he was nearly bouncing up and down on his toes as he tried to keep up with Draco's movements. "Don't stop, Malfoy, don't stop! I'm almost there, almost...fuck, fuck, yes!"
Draco groaned when Potter's rim spasmed around him. His rhythm faltered, but he no longer cared. Now, it was just about getting off. Draco released Potter's prick and got a good grip on Potter's hips. He began pounding into his boss, driving the desk even farther across the floor. Draco's muscles grew taut. He slammed in deep one last time and gave a guttural, victorious yell as he spurted inside of Potter.
The stillness that followed was broken by the sound of their harsh breathing.
Potter recovered first. He jabbed back with an elbow, the blow glancing off of Draco's ribs. "Get off of me, Malfoy."
Draco pulled out quickly, and took a step back. He pulled his wand from his sleeve and flicked a refreshing charm over himself and Potter.
Potter stood up stiffly and dragged his pants and trousers back into place. He turned around and sneered.
Draco lifted his chin, prepared to face being sacked with the dignified disdain of his Malfoy upbringing.
Potter's chin jutted out. "Clean up your desk and get back to work," he growled. He then returned to his own desk.
Draco noted a slight hitch to Potter's gait, and he turned away before his boss could see him smirking. He used his wand to Vanish the evidence of Potter's pleasure, then Draco flicked his wand around, Summoning the parchment and papers that had scattered across the floor. He shoved his desk back where it belonged and sat down. Draco risked a glance at his boss.
Potter shifted in his chair and glared back at Draco. "We shall never speak of this again," he declared. "At least, not in the office."
Cross-posted to dracotops_harry