HP Fic: Accelerated Programme (Harry/Draco, NC-17)
Title: Accelerated Programme
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Era: ‘8th year’
Word Count: ~4500
Warning(s)/Contains: sex between the boys, rimming, oral, dirty talk. Smut ahoy! (bottom!Draco, if you're concerned with that kind of thing). And one detail that means I used film!canon uniforms and not book!canon. Also, a bit of angst and a bit of fluff, and more plot than I expected. But really, mostly a whole lot of smut.
Summary: When Potter finally asks for another lesson and demonstrates more confidence than expected, Draco wonders how wise of an arrangement this is.
Disclaimer: This piece of fiction is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made, no copyright or trademark infringement, or offence is intended. All characters depicted in sexual situations are above the age of consent.
Author’s Notes: For leo_draconis , who keeps tossing me smutty bunnies. This piece is the third installment of the Private Lessons series, which began with The Importance of Fashion Accessories and continued with Private Lessons. There will be at least one more lesson after this.
It had been two days since Draco had slept with Potter.
He had fallen asleep that night with an arm around him and his head resting on the other boy’s chest. When he had woken, he had been in bed alone. Potter’s bed had been in much the same condition Draco had seen it in the night before, which meant that Potter had not retired to his own bed. Where he had gone, Draco did not know. His roommate was not exactly an early riser.
The night following their little lesson, Potter had been conspicuously absent from meal time. He had not appeared at curfew, either. When Draco had wandered into the 8th year common room, Granger and Weasley had managed to pause in their attempt to devour each other’s faces and pay him a little attention. Unfortunately, he had been so embarrassed (and a bit nauseated), he could not look either of them in the eye. When he had asked if they knew where Potter might be, he received only suspicious looks. “I just wanted to see if he had information on a…project,” he had finally managed.
Granger looked sceptical. “Which project? Harry hasn’t mentioned an assignment.”
“Just an independent study project we were considering,” Draco said, his jaw clenching for some reason he didn’t understand. “Forget I asked. Doesn’t appear we’ll be working together after all.” He had left them to their snogging then, and tossed and turned in his bed for a good hour until falling asleep.
Draco was tired of wondering. How had he somehow not seen his bloody roommate in nearly forty-eight hours? Unless… There had been something about the Deathly Hallows, hadn’t there? A cloak that granted invisibility?
Moving quickly, Draco crossed the room and lunged for the bed, grasping for the cloak. His hand closed around nothing and he stumbled, falling onto Potter’s bed. He swore. Loudly.
“Malfoy?”
Draco swore again and scrambled off Potter’s bed. “Yes?”
“What were you doing on my bed?”
“I lost my model of a Snitch. I thought I saw it over here. Went to grab it and it moved on me. You just saw me lose my footing is all.” He mentally patted himself on the back for the cover story he had come up with on the spot.
“Oh.”
Draco took a good look at Potter, who was still standing in the doorway. He saw some dark, shimmery material clutched in Potter’s hand and noticed the way bits of Potter’s leg disappeared when the fabric shifted just the right way. He felt somewhat vindicated. “Where have you been?”
Potter shifted uncomfortably. “Just doing some…things.”
“What kind of things? Illicit things?” Draco couldn’t imagine Potter doing anything especially shady these days. Unless he was sneaking into someone else’s dormitory. That might explain some things. Draco felt his blood pressure rise at the thought.
“No! If you must know, I’ve been...” He muttered something that Draco couldn’t understand.
“You’ve been…?”
“Reading.”
“Oh.” Draco caught the blush on Potter’s cheeks and recalled the conversation they had had post-coitus two nights ago. “Oh. That kind of reading, was it? Find anything interesting?”
“Not really.”
“Why, pray tell, were you hunting for this information?”
“I just wanted to see if there was anything else I could learn.”
“Was my instruction not good enough for you?” Draco tried to affect a mock-hurt tone. He hated that there was little actually ‘mock’ about it. The thought truly did sting.
“No!” Potter exclaimed with wide eyes. “I just didn’t know if you would be up for another round and figured I had to cover my bases.”
“Why Potter. Is this you asking for another lesson?”
“Maybe.” If Potter’s face got any redder, Draco would not be surprised to see it explode.
“It just so happens that I might be willing to teach you a bit more. Besides, didn’t you say that the next time, you would focus on me? Promised, even?”
“I think I might have, yes.”
“Do you not keep your promises?”
Potter smiled hesitantly. “I always keep my promises.”
Typical Gryffindor, Draco thought with a smirk. “Well then. Tomorrow night? Same time?”
“Yes.” Potter’s answer was quick, and some of the tension that had been filling Draco for the past two days dissipated. He nodded, ducked out of the room, and headed for the loo, just so Potter wouldn’t see the ridiculous smile on his face.
~*~
This time, when Draco emerged from the shower and entered their room, Potter was waiting for him. Despite their first session together, Potter still looked nervous. It was oddly endearing. “Malfoy,” Potter said with a crooked smile, as if they had not seen each other at dinner.
“Potter.” He crossed over to his bed and watched Potter stand, hands clenched at his sides. He looked behind his roommate. “I see you’ve cleared off your bed.”
“Yeah. I thought we might do this over here this time.”
Draco shrugged as if he wasn’t trying to discern some meaning out of the gesture. “If you wish.” He moved the few steps across the room and stood facing Potter, whose thighs were pressed up against the high mattress. “Do you remember your lesson?” He made certain to use that same low, even tone he had used last time. The one that said he had things under control and could teach Potter anything he wanted to know.
Potter swallowed hard. “I think so,” he said thickly.
Draco moved a half-step closer, close enough that he could see the pulse point at Potter’s neck. “Then show me.”
Potter removed his glasses and set them on the bedside table. Slowly, as if he was deliberately torturing Draco, he leaned in and placed a feather-light kiss on Draco’s jawbone. Draco shivered. Had that been a lucky guess, or had Potter been paying close attention last time? He kissed a teasing line down from Draco’s jaw toward his shoulder, resting his face in the curve of his neck. When he flicked his tongue against Draco’s collarbone, Draco let out a shuddering sigh. “You smell nice,” Potter whispered in his ear, breath warm against the skin there. “And your skin’s really soft.”
Draco couldn’t come up with an intelligent-sounding response. Not with Potter kissing his neck. Or licking and sucking as he was now doing. He fought the urge to throw Potter down on the bed and have his way with him without any further foreplay. Potter was either much smarter than Draco had ever given him credit for, or exceptionally lucky. Right now, Draco would believe either. He gripped Potter’s hips through his robes, trying to focus. The other boy was making it very difficult.
Pulling himself forcibly away from Potter’s mouth, Draco returned the favour, breathing a long hot breath in Potter’s ear before sucking gently on his earlobe. Potter made a very interesting noise and broke out in goosebumps. Fuck yes, Draco thought absently as he licked a spot behind Potter’s left ear. Draco was already hard. Potter had a direct line to all of Draco’s turn-ons.
Potter shoved a hand into Draco’s robes and slid it up his chest. “You taste good, too.” And then there was a tweak of his nipple and Potter stopped Draco’s moan with a searing kiss. Fuck, but he was a quick learner.
Draco pushed Potter’s hand away. “Slow down,” he ordered, well-aware his body would prefer no such thing. “There are no points for an early finish. Take your time and explore your partner. And let them explore you.”
“I’m sorry,” Potter said quietly. “I thought you were enjoying it.” He looked upset and Draco paused a moment to regroup.
“I was. This isn’t me disparaging your skills, Potter. It’s simply me reminding you that sometimes, the very best things are to be savoured and thoroughly enjoyed. There is a time for a quick fuck. But tonight is not that night. That’s not the lesson I’m aiming to teach.”
“Then what is it you want me to learn tonight?”
“Same as the last time. Seduction. You need to learn the ways to make you unforgettable to your lover, so that he’ll want to keep coming back for more. Or do you think that with all your fame, you won’t be needing that lesson?”
“No,” Potter said with a minute shake of his head. “It sounds very useful.”
“I’m glad you see my logic. Now. Start again.” His voice was as brusque as he could manage. He would appear in control, even if Potter had reduced him to nothing more than human-shaped jelly and nerve endings.
Potter gave a slightly irritated huff and nodded like Snape had given him a tricky Potions assignment to solve in front of the whole class. His eyes closed momentarily, and then he leaned slowly in, pressing his lips to Draco’s with a pressure that was somehow both firm and gentle. Draco sighed softly. This was more like it. He had no idea how long Potter would be up for playing this little game, but with all that had happened the last few years, Draco would happily take what he could get. He could play the part of knowledgeable instructor now and give in to his fantasies during these little lessons and pretend that Potter really felt something for him. It was almost enough.
After a few moments of this, Draco felt Potter’s firm hands take hold of his shoulders and spin him slowly. He only opened his eyes as Potter lowered him to the bed. “What are you doing?”
“We were going to end up here eventually,” Potter murmured into his ear. “I figured we may as well be comfortable.”
Well, he had a point there. And Potter was taking his time now, almost maddeningly so. “I’ll allow it.”
“Thought you might.” Potter attempted to straddle Draco’s lap and nearly fell onto the floor. After a moment of flailing, he actually did fall, tangled and flustered. It ruined the attempt at suave he was likely going for and Draco looked down at the ungainly pile of limbs that was the Gryffindor with his eyebrows raised. “Bloody robes,” Potter grumbled, sorting himself out. His expression was priceless.
“Here, you great prat,” Draco said with a shake of his head. He stood back up, helped Potter find his footing, and undid the buttons trapping Potter inside his clothing. He pulled at the robes and slid his hands across Harry’s muscled chest. Fighting Dark Wizards did amazing things for one’s physique, it seemed. When Potter’s breath hitched, Draco smirked. “Sensitive, are we?” He slipped Potter’s robes the rest of the way off. “Now look at who’s not wearing anything underneath.” He was quite pleased to find Potter already erect. Physically, at least, this appeared to be a mutual thing.
“Thought I might take a page out of your book,” Potter said, his gaze burning a hole deep into Draco.
“It’s a very good book, if I do say so myself.”
Potter nodded. “You won’t get any argument from me.” He stepped out of the robes around his feet and began to undo Draco’s robes. Once Draco was free of his own clothing, Potter pushed him back onto the bed. Draco sat heavily, watching Potter approach. Despite his earlier lack of grace, the other boy moved like a cat, nearly predatory in his movements. Whoever ended up being Potter’s first real lover wouldn’t know what hit him. It stung that Draco was teaching him the skills he would be using on someone else, but there was satisfaction in it as well. No matter how many people he took to his bed, Potter might always remember Draco, if only because they shared so many of Potter’s early experiences.
This time, Potter did not fall off the bed. Draco relished the feel of Potter’s thighs squeezing his hips, the weight of him atop Draco’s lap, the feel of their cocks brushing when Potter moved just so. He only wished the other boy had left on his school tie-Draco wanted to grab it and pull Potter down on top of him, decreasing the distance between them.
He didn’t have to wish for long. Potter pushed Draco all the way down and slid down toward the foot of the bed. Trailing light kisses down Draco’s chest and then his abdomen, Potter peered up at him with eyes that burned with something Draco couldn’t classify. “Guide me through this?”
“Through wha-oh,” he gasped as Potter took one of Draco’s bollocks into his mouth and sucked gently. Potter’s mouth was warm and wet, everything a mouth should be, and Draco’s hands clenched underneath the pillow. He hadn’t shown Potter this trick. Perhaps he had found some informative reading material.
Potter continued his ministrations for another minute or two, eliciting some rather embarrassing noises from Draco, before his head popped up. “Guidance would be nice, you know.”
“You’re doing just fine on your own. Please. Continue.” Why was Potter wasting time with words when he could be putting his mouth to better use?
Potter shrugged one shoulder and dipped his head again. This time he tongued underneath Draco’s sack and finally gave one short lick to Draco’s perineum. Draco’s hips bucked of their own accord and he heard the other boy mutter an “oof.”
“Sorry,” Draco muttered, really only sorry that Potter had stopped.
Potter murmured something that sounded like “must remember that,” and placed a tiny bite at Draco’s inner thigh. He nosed Draco’s cock gently, then gave it a small lick. Was he going to-? Draco’s question, not even fully formed in his head, was answered when Potter’s head popped up again. “Seriously, Malfoy. Guide me.” And then he wet his lips and took Draco into his mouth.
“Mind your teeth,” was the first bit of instruction Draco managed, and then Potter readjusted, much to Draco’s relief. The movements were clumsy, the rhythm not a rhythm at all, but just the fact that Draco had the saviour to the bloody world sucking him off was almost enough to undo him. When Potter sped up and promptly gagged, Draco forced himself to concentrate. “You don’t have to go so deep,” Draco said, his voice stilted. “And finding a rhythm is better than breakneck speed. Breathe through your nose and open your throat.”
Potter seemed to take the lesson to heart. “Like this?” he asked a few moments later, his face flushed.
Draco whimpered in frustration. It had just been getting good. “Merlin, Potter, don’t stop now!”
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’, then,” Potter laughed before resuming where he had left off. If Draco had had the presence of mind, he would have glared. He found it was hard to do with a mouth around your cock.
It wasn’t long at all before Draco felt his orgasm approaching. “That’s enough for now,” he managed, ignoring his body’s cry of ‘traitor!’ When Potter didn’t stop, Draco cleared his throat. “Seriously, Potter, stop now or I’m going to come down your throat.”
Potter only raised his eyes to meet Draco’s. They glinted with a look that was entirely too Slytherin, and Draco recognised it for what it was-perverse satisfaction. He had no more than acknowledged it before his orgasm hit full-force and he was twisting his hand in Potter’s sheets as he came with a little cry.
Potter sat back on his heels and wiped at his chin with the back of his hand. He grimaced a bit. “Well, that was new. And weird.”
“Weird?”
“Just…the taste, I guess. And the feel.”
“Well, I did warn you, but as always, you chose not to listen to reason. And I never said it would compare to gourmet dining.”
“No, no,” Potter said hurriedly. “I’m not complaining. I wanted it.”
If Draco hadn’t been feeling a little weak from Potter’s surprisingly pleasant first attempt, he might have done something drastic. Instead he just filed away that moment, Potter saying ”I wanted it” with that fucking look on his face, his lips still swollen and red. No one could take that from him.
“Yes, well, be that as it may, you’ve worn me out, and it might be a little while until I can move again and teach you anything else. Did you think that far ahead?”
“I did, actually.” There was that self-satisfied look again, so fucking Slytherin, and it made Draco shiver. “You fucked me last time-”
“Which you asked for,” Draco was quick to point out.
“-and you said that this time, you would let me fuck you. Still up for it?”
“Potter, if I could move right now, that would be one thing. But don’t think you can just ram it home because I’m happily post-orgasm. There are things you must do first. Preparation. I prepared you last time. Trust me, we likely wouldn’t be here tonight if I hadn’t, unless pain does something for you.”
“Malfoy, what on earth makes you think I don’t intend to make it good? Just guide me. I learn best by doing. Or was that not apparent a few moments ago?”
Potter had him there. “So, you had a plan, did you?” he said after a few moments of consideration.
With a little smile, Potter slid up in the bed to lie behind Draco, wrapping him in arms that were surprisingly warm. “I did.” He kissed the spot between Draco’s shoulder blades and Draco could feel the prat smile as he did so. He really should be careful. Kisses as a prelude to sleeping together, and even in the moment when they were joined in the act of sex, well, that was one thing. But kisses outside of those moments should mean something. He was ashamed of how much he believed that. “There’s a lot I want to learn. And you are a good teacher.”
“Flattery,” Draco said with a small smile on his lips, “will get you everywhere.”
“With you, at least.”
“Mm. Yes.” Potter was trailing soft kisses across each shoulder, mouthing the back of Draco’s neck. One of Potter’s hands snaked around Draco’s hip and rested on Draco’s abdomen, pulling him back into Potter. The other boy was half-hard, his cock resting snugly up the length of Draco’s crack. It was…was it comforting? Or arousing? Fuck all, Draco didn’t even know.
Potter seemed intent to cover every square centimetre of Draco’s back with kisses, all of them absurdly gentle, yet tantalising. When he reached the small of Draco’s back, he licked the spot in a way that quite clearly said Potter was not done using his mouth to explore.
There were hands cupping Draco’s arse, kneading the flesh there with more aplomb than Draco would have ever expected from someone like Potter, and then Potter’s tongue timidly pressed its way between the cheeks Potter spread apart. Draco let out a noise of encouragement when Potter paused. Potter did it again, licking gently with the point of his tongue. And then, after another moment, there was a firm, broad, wet stripe being licked from the bottom of Draco’s balls all the way to his hole, and the moan that escaped him was only half-planned.
“That’s okay, then?” Potter asked, his voice muffled.
“Definitely okay. But don’t feel you have to do that, if you don’t want to. Just because I did it to you does not mean you have to reciprocate this particular act.” What the fuck was he saying, giving Potter an out when his face was buried in Draco’s arse? He must be delirious. Or picking up Gryffindor nobility like some sexually transmitted disease.
Potter didn’t answer with words. He only pulled Draco’s arse cheeks farther apart and tongued Draco’s hole again. He seemed to get into the act, really putting some effort into it. Draco wasn’t even aware he was moaning until Potter said something. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologise. It’s a nice indicator that I’m doing something right.” He slid up in the bed and stretched his legs. “Besides, I like it when you make those noises.”
Draco made a mental note to be more vocally encouraging. He rolled over and caught Potter’s face when he noticed Draco’s erection had returned. “Surprised?”
“No. Just feeling a bit victorious, is all.” There was a smirk there, and the way it lit up both Potter’s eyes and Draco’s nerves was worth all the teasing Potter had been doing all evening. He took Draco’s cock in hand and stroked it a few times.
Draco batted his hand away. “Enough teasing, Potter. Do you want to fuck me or don’t you?”
“Very much.”
“Then lead, damn it.” This was maddening, the way Potter made Draco want him. This was all some game, some informative little bit of playacting, but now that Draco had seen just how determined Potter could be, he wondered how wise his rash decision had been.
“So fucking cranky, Draco.”
Hearing his name on Potter’s lips was too much. “Malfoy. And I am not.”
“No. Draco,” Potter said smoothly, deliberately. “ We set rules last time. If I’ve had my tongue in your arse, I get to use your name. You can still use mine, you know.” He pulled some lube, something horrifyingly Muggle, out of his top drawer. “Now on your stomach. And let me know if you want anything else.”
You, you, I want you, Draco’s brain chanted. He bit down on his tongue, but rolled over. Potter laid behind him and pressed his face against Draco’s back, nipping at tender flesh before slowly sliding one slicked finger in. He worked Draco’s hole carefully, stretching and scissoring, and eventually added a second finger, but not before he asked permission. Fucking Gryffindors were both chivalrous and amazingly dense. This one was, at least.
Potter moved behind him and they slid off the bed, Draco bent over and clutching at Potter’s pillow at the head. No romance here, then. Draco had needed to see Potter, watch his reaction on his naked face, wanting to see every bloody expression. And the urge to kiss him as he had thrust into the other boy was one that could not be denied. Potter felt no such need, and Draco should not have been hurt. He knew this was just a way to learn, to experiment with someone who could give instruction.
Draco could feel Potter’s frustration for a moment, and then something hit Draco’s prostate and sent his hips canting forward into the mattress. “Fuck.”
Potter laughed. “I’m getting there. Be patient with me.” He hit Draco’s prostate again and again, and Draco couldn’t help but moan. “That’s more like it, Draco,” Potter whispered behind him, and Draco choked out a whimper. He was as bad as a sodding Hufflepuff, letting the sound of his name in Potter’s silky, seductive voice get to him. “Ready?”
“Ready.” His cock demanded attention and after Potter slowly, agonisingly slowly, slid his way into Draco, he took himself into his own hand.
“Christ, Draco, you feel amazing.” Potter’s forehead rested on Draco’s back, the sweat-damp hair tickling Draco’s flushed skin. “I’m not sure I’ll last.”
“You don’t have to,” Draco told him. “I can finish myself if you go too quickly.”
“Fuck that,” Potter said with a grunt, starting to move. He nudged Draco’s arm out of the way and covered Draco’s cock with his own slicked hand. “I want to be the one to make you come.”
Draco moaned. How many times had Potter said something like that in his fantasies?
Potter readjusted his stance, sliding deeper into Draco. “I want to be the one to touch you when you get off,” he murmured, stroking lazily. “I want to feel you tense around me and I want to feel you lose yourself. I want to feel your come all over my hand. Oh, Draco, you have no idea.”
Draco choked off a sob that rose from his chest. Potter shifted once more and whispered his name, his voice honeyed and dark. “I want you to come for me, Draco.” He hit Draco’s prostate when he uttered his name, and if he kept doing that, Draco was going to absolutely lose himself. He trembled, and Potter’s free hand came to rest on Draco’s abdomen. “Hey, you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Draco ground out, determined to keep control. “Just close.”
“Wasn’t sure you’d be one for dirty talk,” Potter said, sounding a little out of breath. Draco didn’t respond, unable to tell him it was more about hearing such intimate things said in Potter’s damn voice, with his name on the other boy’s lips. “Fuck, Draco, I think I might-“
“Then do it.”
Potter sped up his movements and before he was finished, Draco found his own release pumping out over Potter’s fist, dripping onto the other boy’s bed. “Oh, Christ,” Potter said, his own voice thick and so fucking charged. “Draco-”
Draco felt Potter’s orgasm rip through him, filling him, and Potter went ramrod straight for a moment before collapsing on top of Draco. “You’re crushing me,” Draco prompted when Potter did not immediately move. He waited for Potter to drag himself onto his bed and then he stood and reached for his robes.
He was stopped by a hand on his wrist. “Hey. You okay? Did I do it wrong?”
“Given that we both reached orgasm, I would say you were successful,” Draco said, unable to meet Potter’s eyes. He made another move to head to his own bed, but Potter still did not let go. “Is there a reason you’re keeping me here?”
“Shut up, Draco,” Potter whispered, and tugged.
Draco knew he should have put up more resistance, but he simply did not want to. He let Potter pull him onto bed and even climbed in next to him when Potter patted the mattress. “I suppose this is as good a place as my own bed to spend the next little bit.”
“Or the night,” Potter said quietly, scooting up behind him and pulling him close.
When another kiss landed on his shoulder, Draco rolled over. Potter looked near sleep already, but he smiled when Draco did not turn away again. He ran one hand through Draco’s hair and caressed the small of his back with the other. “What is it you want from me?” He hated this. Last time, he had been the one with the answers, and Potter the one with questions and doubts. When had it changed so drastically?
“Another lesson tomorrow. And more to come after that.”
Oh. Well, at least Potter had the decency to be direct about it. “I suppose we could work out an arrangement.”
He drifted off to sleep soon after, Potter’s arms still wrapped around him. He was only barely aware that Potter squeezed him once more, then brushed his lips over Draco’s forehead. Some part of his brain registered Potter whispering his name, but any other words he might have uttered were lost in fog, blended neatly into his deepest dreams.
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Era: ‘8th year’
Word Count: ~4500
Warning(s)/Contains: sex between the boys, rimming, oral, dirty talk. Smut ahoy! (bottom!Draco, if you're concerned with that kind of thing). And one detail that means I used film!canon uniforms and not book!canon. Also, a bit of angst and a bit of fluff, and more plot than I expected. But really, mostly a whole lot of smut.
Summary: When Potter finally asks for another lesson and demonstrates more confidence than expected, Draco wonders how wise of an arrangement this is.
Disclaimer: This piece of fiction is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made, no copyright or trademark infringement, or offence is intended. All characters depicted in sexual situations are above the age of consent.
Author’s Notes: For leo_draconis , who keeps tossing me smutty bunnies. This piece is the third installment of the Private Lessons series, which began with The Importance of Fashion Accessories and continued with Private Lessons. There will be at least one more lesson after this.
It had been two days since Draco had slept with Potter.
He had fallen asleep that night with an arm around him and his head resting on the other boy’s chest. When he had woken, he had been in bed alone. Potter’s bed had been in much the same condition Draco had seen it in the night before, which meant that Potter had not retired to his own bed. Where he had gone, Draco did not know. His roommate was not exactly an early riser.
The night following their little lesson, Potter had been conspicuously absent from meal time. He had not appeared at curfew, either. When Draco had wandered into the 8th year common room, Granger and Weasley had managed to pause in their attempt to devour each other’s faces and pay him a little attention. Unfortunately, he had been so embarrassed (and a bit nauseated), he could not look either of them in the eye. When he had asked if they knew where Potter might be, he received only suspicious looks. “I just wanted to see if he had information on a…project,” he had finally managed.
Granger looked sceptical. “Which project? Harry hasn’t mentioned an assignment.”
“Just an independent study project we were considering,” Draco said, his jaw clenching for some reason he didn’t understand. “Forget I asked. Doesn’t appear we’ll be working together after all.” He had left them to their snogging then, and tossed and turned in his bed for a good hour until falling asleep.
Draco was tired of wondering. How had he somehow not seen his bloody roommate in nearly forty-eight hours? Unless… There had been something about the Deathly Hallows, hadn’t there? A cloak that granted invisibility?
Moving quickly, Draco crossed the room and lunged for the bed, grasping for the cloak. His hand closed around nothing and he stumbled, falling onto Potter’s bed. He swore. Loudly.
“Malfoy?”
Draco swore again and scrambled off Potter’s bed. “Yes?”
“What were you doing on my bed?”
“I lost my model of a Snitch. I thought I saw it over here. Went to grab it and it moved on me. You just saw me lose my footing is all.” He mentally patted himself on the back for the cover story he had come up with on the spot.
“Oh.”
Draco took a good look at Potter, who was still standing in the doorway. He saw some dark, shimmery material clutched in Potter’s hand and noticed the way bits of Potter’s leg disappeared when the fabric shifted just the right way. He felt somewhat vindicated. “Where have you been?”
Potter shifted uncomfortably. “Just doing some…things.”
“What kind of things? Illicit things?” Draco couldn’t imagine Potter doing anything especially shady these days. Unless he was sneaking into someone else’s dormitory. That might explain some things. Draco felt his blood pressure rise at the thought.
“No! If you must know, I’ve been...” He muttered something that Draco couldn’t understand.
“You’ve been…?”
“Reading.”
“Oh.” Draco caught the blush on Potter’s cheeks and recalled the conversation they had had post-coitus two nights ago. “Oh. That kind of reading, was it? Find anything interesting?”
“Not really.”
“Why, pray tell, were you hunting for this information?”
“I just wanted to see if there was anything else I could learn.”
“Was my instruction not good enough for you?” Draco tried to affect a mock-hurt tone. He hated that there was little actually ‘mock’ about it. The thought truly did sting.
“No!” Potter exclaimed with wide eyes. “I just didn’t know if you would be up for another round and figured I had to cover my bases.”
“Why Potter. Is this you asking for another lesson?”
“Maybe.” If Potter’s face got any redder, Draco would not be surprised to see it explode.
“It just so happens that I might be willing to teach you a bit more. Besides, didn’t you say that the next time, you would focus on me? Promised, even?”
“I think I might have, yes.”
“Do you not keep your promises?”
Potter smiled hesitantly. “I always keep my promises.”
Typical Gryffindor, Draco thought with a smirk. “Well then. Tomorrow night? Same time?”
“Yes.” Potter’s answer was quick, and some of the tension that had been filling Draco for the past two days dissipated. He nodded, ducked out of the room, and headed for the loo, just so Potter wouldn’t see the ridiculous smile on his face.
~*~
This time, when Draco emerged from the shower and entered their room, Potter was waiting for him. Despite their first session together, Potter still looked nervous. It was oddly endearing. “Malfoy,” Potter said with a crooked smile, as if they had not seen each other at dinner.
“Potter.” He crossed over to his bed and watched Potter stand, hands clenched at his sides. He looked behind his roommate. “I see you’ve cleared off your bed.”
“Yeah. I thought we might do this over here this time.”
Draco shrugged as if he wasn’t trying to discern some meaning out of the gesture. “If you wish.” He moved the few steps across the room and stood facing Potter, whose thighs were pressed up against the high mattress. “Do you remember your lesson?” He made certain to use that same low, even tone he had used last time. The one that said he had things under control and could teach Potter anything he wanted to know.
Potter swallowed hard. “I think so,” he said thickly.
Draco moved a half-step closer, close enough that he could see the pulse point at Potter’s neck. “Then show me.”
Potter removed his glasses and set them on the bedside table. Slowly, as if he was deliberately torturing Draco, he leaned in and placed a feather-light kiss on Draco’s jawbone. Draco shivered. Had that been a lucky guess, or had Potter been paying close attention last time? He kissed a teasing line down from Draco’s jaw toward his shoulder, resting his face in the curve of his neck. When he flicked his tongue against Draco’s collarbone, Draco let out a shuddering sigh. “You smell nice,” Potter whispered in his ear, breath warm against the skin there. “And your skin’s really soft.”
Draco couldn’t come up with an intelligent-sounding response. Not with Potter kissing his neck. Or licking and sucking as he was now doing. He fought the urge to throw Potter down on the bed and have his way with him without any further foreplay. Potter was either much smarter than Draco had ever given him credit for, or exceptionally lucky. Right now, Draco would believe either. He gripped Potter’s hips through his robes, trying to focus. The other boy was making it very difficult.
Pulling himself forcibly away from Potter’s mouth, Draco returned the favour, breathing a long hot breath in Potter’s ear before sucking gently on his earlobe. Potter made a very interesting noise and broke out in goosebumps. Fuck yes, Draco thought absently as he licked a spot behind Potter’s left ear. Draco was already hard. Potter had a direct line to all of Draco’s turn-ons.
Potter shoved a hand into Draco’s robes and slid it up his chest. “You taste good, too.” And then there was a tweak of his nipple and Potter stopped Draco’s moan with a searing kiss. Fuck, but he was a quick learner.
Draco pushed Potter’s hand away. “Slow down,” he ordered, well-aware his body would prefer no such thing. “There are no points for an early finish. Take your time and explore your partner. And let them explore you.”
“I’m sorry,” Potter said quietly. “I thought you were enjoying it.” He looked upset and Draco paused a moment to regroup.
“I was. This isn’t me disparaging your skills, Potter. It’s simply me reminding you that sometimes, the very best things are to be savoured and thoroughly enjoyed. There is a time for a quick fuck. But tonight is not that night. That’s not the lesson I’m aiming to teach.”
“Then what is it you want me to learn tonight?”
“Same as the last time. Seduction. You need to learn the ways to make you unforgettable to your lover, so that he’ll want to keep coming back for more. Or do you think that with all your fame, you won’t be needing that lesson?”
“No,” Potter said with a minute shake of his head. “It sounds very useful.”
“I’m glad you see my logic. Now. Start again.” His voice was as brusque as he could manage. He would appear in control, even if Potter had reduced him to nothing more than human-shaped jelly and nerve endings.
Potter gave a slightly irritated huff and nodded like Snape had given him a tricky Potions assignment to solve in front of the whole class. His eyes closed momentarily, and then he leaned slowly in, pressing his lips to Draco’s with a pressure that was somehow both firm and gentle. Draco sighed softly. This was more like it. He had no idea how long Potter would be up for playing this little game, but with all that had happened the last few years, Draco would happily take what he could get. He could play the part of knowledgeable instructor now and give in to his fantasies during these little lessons and pretend that Potter really felt something for him. It was almost enough.
After a few moments of this, Draco felt Potter’s firm hands take hold of his shoulders and spin him slowly. He only opened his eyes as Potter lowered him to the bed. “What are you doing?”
“We were going to end up here eventually,” Potter murmured into his ear. “I figured we may as well be comfortable.”
Well, he had a point there. And Potter was taking his time now, almost maddeningly so. “I’ll allow it.”
“Thought you might.” Potter attempted to straddle Draco’s lap and nearly fell onto the floor. After a moment of flailing, he actually did fall, tangled and flustered. It ruined the attempt at suave he was likely going for and Draco looked down at the ungainly pile of limbs that was the Gryffindor with his eyebrows raised. “Bloody robes,” Potter grumbled, sorting himself out. His expression was priceless.
“Here, you great prat,” Draco said with a shake of his head. He stood back up, helped Potter find his footing, and undid the buttons trapping Potter inside his clothing. He pulled at the robes and slid his hands across Harry’s muscled chest. Fighting Dark Wizards did amazing things for one’s physique, it seemed. When Potter’s breath hitched, Draco smirked. “Sensitive, are we?” He slipped Potter’s robes the rest of the way off. “Now look at who’s not wearing anything underneath.” He was quite pleased to find Potter already erect. Physically, at least, this appeared to be a mutual thing.
“Thought I might take a page out of your book,” Potter said, his gaze burning a hole deep into Draco.
“It’s a very good book, if I do say so myself.”
Potter nodded. “You won’t get any argument from me.” He stepped out of the robes around his feet and began to undo Draco’s robes. Once Draco was free of his own clothing, Potter pushed him back onto the bed. Draco sat heavily, watching Potter approach. Despite his earlier lack of grace, the other boy moved like a cat, nearly predatory in his movements. Whoever ended up being Potter’s first real lover wouldn’t know what hit him. It stung that Draco was teaching him the skills he would be using on someone else, but there was satisfaction in it as well. No matter how many people he took to his bed, Potter might always remember Draco, if only because they shared so many of Potter’s early experiences.
This time, Potter did not fall off the bed. Draco relished the feel of Potter’s thighs squeezing his hips, the weight of him atop Draco’s lap, the feel of their cocks brushing when Potter moved just so. He only wished the other boy had left on his school tie-Draco wanted to grab it and pull Potter down on top of him, decreasing the distance between them.
He didn’t have to wish for long. Potter pushed Draco all the way down and slid down toward the foot of the bed. Trailing light kisses down Draco’s chest and then his abdomen, Potter peered up at him with eyes that burned with something Draco couldn’t classify. “Guide me through this?”
“Through wha-oh,” he gasped as Potter took one of Draco’s bollocks into his mouth and sucked gently. Potter’s mouth was warm and wet, everything a mouth should be, and Draco’s hands clenched underneath the pillow. He hadn’t shown Potter this trick. Perhaps he had found some informative reading material.
Potter continued his ministrations for another minute or two, eliciting some rather embarrassing noises from Draco, before his head popped up. “Guidance would be nice, you know.”
“You’re doing just fine on your own. Please. Continue.” Why was Potter wasting time with words when he could be putting his mouth to better use?
Potter shrugged one shoulder and dipped his head again. This time he tongued underneath Draco’s sack and finally gave one short lick to Draco’s perineum. Draco’s hips bucked of their own accord and he heard the other boy mutter an “oof.”
“Sorry,” Draco muttered, really only sorry that Potter had stopped.
Potter murmured something that sounded like “must remember that,” and placed a tiny bite at Draco’s inner thigh. He nosed Draco’s cock gently, then gave it a small lick. Was he going to-? Draco’s question, not even fully formed in his head, was answered when Potter’s head popped up again. “Seriously, Malfoy. Guide me.” And then he wet his lips and took Draco into his mouth.
“Mind your teeth,” was the first bit of instruction Draco managed, and then Potter readjusted, much to Draco’s relief. The movements were clumsy, the rhythm not a rhythm at all, but just the fact that Draco had the saviour to the bloody world sucking him off was almost enough to undo him. When Potter sped up and promptly gagged, Draco forced himself to concentrate. “You don’t have to go so deep,” Draco said, his voice stilted. “And finding a rhythm is better than breakneck speed. Breathe through your nose and open your throat.”
Potter seemed to take the lesson to heart. “Like this?” he asked a few moments later, his face flushed.
Draco whimpered in frustration. It had just been getting good. “Merlin, Potter, don’t stop now!”
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’, then,” Potter laughed before resuming where he had left off. If Draco had had the presence of mind, he would have glared. He found it was hard to do with a mouth around your cock.
It wasn’t long at all before Draco felt his orgasm approaching. “That’s enough for now,” he managed, ignoring his body’s cry of ‘traitor!’ When Potter didn’t stop, Draco cleared his throat. “Seriously, Potter, stop now or I’m going to come down your throat.”
Potter only raised his eyes to meet Draco’s. They glinted with a look that was entirely too Slytherin, and Draco recognised it for what it was-perverse satisfaction. He had no more than acknowledged it before his orgasm hit full-force and he was twisting his hand in Potter’s sheets as he came with a little cry.
Potter sat back on his heels and wiped at his chin with the back of his hand. He grimaced a bit. “Well, that was new. And weird.”
“Weird?”
“Just…the taste, I guess. And the feel.”
“Well, I did warn you, but as always, you chose not to listen to reason. And I never said it would compare to gourmet dining.”
“No, no,” Potter said hurriedly. “I’m not complaining. I wanted it.”
If Draco hadn’t been feeling a little weak from Potter’s surprisingly pleasant first attempt, he might have done something drastic. Instead he just filed away that moment, Potter saying ”I wanted it” with that fucking look on his face, his lips still swollen and red. No one could take that from him.
“Yes, well, be that as it may, you’ve worn me out, and it might be a little while until I can move again and teach you anything else. Did you think that far ahead?”
“I did, actually.” There was that self-satisfied look again, so fucking Slytherin, and it made Draco shiver. “You fucked me last time-”
“Which you asked for,” Draco was quick to point out.
“-and you said that this time, you would let me fuck you. Still up for it?”
“Potter, if I could move right now, that would be one thing. But don’t think you can just ram it home because I’m happily post-orgasm. There are things you must do first. Preparation. I prepared you last time. Trust me, we likely wouldn’t be here tonight if I hadn’t, unless pain does something for you.”
“Malfoy, what on earth makes you think I don’t intend to make it good? Just guide me. I learn best by doing. Or was that not apparent a few moments ago?”
Potter had him there. “So, you had a plan, did you?” he said after a few moments of consideration.
With a little smile, Potter slid up in the bed to lie behind Draco, wrapping him in arms that were surprisingly warm. “I did.” He kissed the spot between Draco’s shoulder blades and Draco could feel the prat smile as he did so. He really should be careful. Kisses as a prelude to sleeping together, and even in the moment when they were joined in the act of sex, well, that was one thing. But kisses outside of those moments should mean something. He was ashamed of how much he believed that. “There’s a lot I want to learn. And you are a good teacher.”
“Flattery,” Draco said with a small smile on his lips, “will get you everywhere.”
“With you, at least.”
“Mm. Yes.” Potter was trailing soft kisses across each shoulder, mouthing the back of Draco’s neck. One of Potter’s hands snaked around Draco’s hip and rested on Draco’s abdomen, pulling him back into Potter. The other boy was half-hard, his cock resting snugly up the length of Draco’s crack. It was…was it comforting? Or arousing? Fuck all, Draco didn’t even know.
Potter seemed intent to cover every square centimetre of Draco’s back with kisses, all of them absurdly gentle, yet tantalising. When he reached the small of Draco’s back, he licked the spot in a way that quite clearly said Potter was not done using his mouth to explore.
There were hands cupping Draco’s arse, kneading the flesh there with more aplomb than Draco would have ever expected from someone like Potter, and then Potter’s tongue timidly pressed its way between the cheeks Potter spread apart. Draco let out a noise of encouragement when Potter paused. Potter did it again, licking gently with the point of his tongue. And then, after another moment, there was a firm, broad, wet stripe being licked from the bottom of Draco’s balls all the way to his hole, and the moan that escaped him was only half-planned.
“That’s okay, then?” Potter asked, his voice muffled.
“Definitely okay. But don’t feel you have to do that, if you don’t want to. Just because I did it to you does not mean you have to reciprocate this particular act.” What the fuck was he saying, giving Potter an out when his face was buried in Draco’s arse? He must be delirious. Or picking up Gryffindor nobility like some sexually transmitted disease.
Potter didn’t answer with words. He only pulled Draco’s arse cheeks farther apart and tongued Draco’s hole again. He seemed to get into the act, really putting some effort into it. Draco wasn’t even aware he was moaning until Potter said something. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologise. It’s a nice indicator that I’m doing something right.” He slid up in the bed and stretched his legs. “Besides, I like it when you make those noises.”
Draco made a mental note to be more vocally encouraging. He rolled over and caught Potter’s face when he noticed Draco’s erection had returned. “Surprised?”
“No. Just feeling a bit victorious, is all.” There was a smirk there, and the way it lit up both Potter’s eyes and Draco’s nerves was worth all the teasing Potter had been doing all evening. He took Draco’s cock in hand and stroked it a few times.
Draco batted his hand away. “Enough teasing, Potter. Do you want to fuck me or don’t you?”
“Very much.”
“Then lead, damn it.” This was maddening, the way Potter made Draco want him. This was all some game, some informative little bit of playacting, but now that Draco had seen just how determined Potter could be, he wondered how wise his rash decision had been.
“So fucking cranky, Draco.”
Hearing his name on Potter’s lips was too much. “Malfoy. And I am not.”
“No. Draco,” Potter said smoothly, deliberately. “ We set rules last time. If I’ve had my tongue in your arse, I get to use your name. You can still use mine, you know.” He pulled some lube, something horrifyingly Muggle, out of his top drawer. “Now on your stomach. And let me know if you want anything else.”
You, you, I want you, Draco’s brain chanted. He bit down on his tongue, but rolled over. Potter laid behind him and pressed his face against Draco’s back, nipping at tender flesh before slowly sliding one slicked finger in. He worked Draco’s hole carefully, stretching and scissoring, and eventually added a second finger, but not before he asked permission. Fucking Gryffindors were both chivalrous and amazingly dense. This one was, at least.
Potter moved behind him and they slid off the bed, Draco bent over and clutching at Potter’s pillow at the head. No romance here, then. Draco had needed to see Potter, watch his reaction on his naked face, wanting to see every bloody expression. And the urge to kiss him as he had thrust into the other boy was one that could not be denied. Potter felt no such need, and Draco should not have been hurt. He knew this was just a way to learn, to experiment with someone who could give instruction.
Draco could feel Potter’s frustration for a moment, and then something hit Draco’s prostate and sent his hips canting forward into the mattress. “Fuck.”
Potter laughed. “I’m getting there. Be patient with me.” He hit Draco’s prostate again and again, and Draco couldn’t help but moan. “That’s more like it, Draco,” Potter whispered behind him, and Draco choked out a whimper. He was as bad as a sodding Hufflepuff, letting the sound of his name in Potter’s silky, seductive voice get to him. “Ready?”
“Ready.” His cock demanded attention and after Potter slowly, agonisingly slowly, slid his way into Draco, he took himself into his own hand.
“Christ, Draco, you feel amazing.” Potter’s forehead rested on Draco’s back, the sweat-damp hair tickling Draco’s flushed skin. “I’m not sure I’ll last.”
“You don’t have to,” Draco told him. “I can finish myself if you go too quickly.”
“Fuck that,” Potter said with a grunt, starting to move. He nudged Draco’s arm out of the way and covered Draco’s cock with his own slicked hand. “I want to be the one to make you come.”
Draco moaned. How many times had Potter said something like that in his fantasies?
Potter readjusted his stance, sliding deeper into Draco. “I want to be the one to touch you when you get off,” he murmured, stroking lazily. “I want to feel you tense around me and I want to feel you lose yourself. I want to feel your come all over my hand. Oh, Draco, you have no idea.”
Draco choked off a sob that rose from his chest. Potter shifted once more and whispered his name, his voice honeyed and dark. “I want you to come for me, Draco.” He hit Draco’s prostate when he uttered his name, and if he kept doing that, Draco was going to absolutely lose himself. He trembled, and Potter’s free hand came to rest on Draco’s abdomen. “Hey, you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Draco ground out, determined to keep control. “Just close.”
“Wasn’t sure you’d be one for dirty talk,” Potter said, sounding a little out of breath. Draco didn’t respond, unable to tell him it was more about hearing such intimate things said in Potter’s damn voice, with his name on the other boy’s lips. “Fuck, Draco, I think I might-“
“Then do it.”
Potter sped up his movements and before he was finished, Draco found his own release pumping out over Potter’s fist, dripping onto the other boy’s bed. “Oh, Christ,” Potter said, his own voice thick and so fucking charged. “Draco-”
Draco felt Potter’s orgasm rip through him, filling him, and Potter went ramrod straight for a moment before collapsing on top of Draco. “You’re crushing me,” Draco prompted when Potter did not immediately move. He waited for Potter to drag himself onto his bed and then he stood and reached for his robes.
He was stopped by a hand on his wrist. “Hey. You okay? Did I do it wrong?”
“Given that we both reached orgasm, I would say you were successful,” Draco said, unable to meet Potter’s eyes. He made another move to head to his own bed, but Potter still did not let go. “Is there a reason you’re keeping me here?”
“Shut up, Draco,” Potter whispered, and tugged.
Draco knew he should have put up more resistance, but he simply did not want to. He let Potter pull him onto bed and even climbed in next to him when Potter patted the mattress. “I suppose this is as good a place as my own bed to spend the next little bit.”
“Or the night,” Potter said quietly, scooting up behind him and pulling him close.
When another kiss landed on his shoulder, Draco rolled over. Potter looked near sleep already, but he smiled when Draco did not turn away again. He ran one hand through Draco’s hair and caressed the small of his back with the other. “What is it you want from me?” He hated this. Last time, he had been the one with the answers, and Potter the one with questions and doubts. When had it changed so drastically?
“Another lesson tomorrow. And more to come after that.”
Oh. Well, at least Potter had the decency to be direct about it. “I suppose we could work out an arrangement.”
He drifted off to sleep soon after, Potter’s arms still wrapped around him. He was only barely aware that Potter squeezed him once more, then brushed his lips over Draco’s forehead. Some part of his brain registered Potter whispering his name, but any other words he might have uttered were lost in fog, blended neatly into his deepest dreams.