porn: Sex, Lies, and Veritaserum (2/2)
Title: Sex, Lies, and Veritaserum
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Warnings: dirty talk, fingering, anal sex, with mention/discussion of dominance, submission, felching, object insertion, food porn, exhibitionism, spanking, cross-dressing, and, I don’t know, throw in like a consensual orgy
Summary: This entire fic is one long conversation about sex.
A/N: -Thanks ever so to hereticalvision for the Brit pick and SPAG; all mistakes are mine
-There is potential gross-out; heed the warnings
-For me, this is a little like showing some sex toys I like. If you're here for the Schopenhauer come back next week.
go to: part 1
Sex, Lies, and Veritaserum - pt 2
In the living room, Harry looked down at the Veritaserum. He would like some of that, the long cool spill of liquid down his throat. He would like to say with the serum’s certainty that he wanted this, because he knew he did. The only problem was, he hadn’t known he’d wanted it as long as Draco. He hadn’t had time to grow used to this, to imagine every detail.
He thought of Draco, eager and excited and courageous in there, because he could finally admit that he wanted this, even if it was only with the help of Veritaserum. Harry wondered whether Draco could really be this happy if any of this was so very wrong.
He thought of Draco at Christmas time, the way he was in anticipation of presents. He thought of Draco when they had moved in together, the way he had been celebratory by wanting to christen every room by fucking. He thought of Draco again, pink and pale and no doubt waiting for him on the bed, breathless just like it was Christmas, and joyful in the way he was when he got to do new things with Harry.
Harry walked into the bedroom.
Draco was waiting naked on the bed, just as breathless as Harry had imagined. Maybe more nervous than Harry had suspected, because when he saw Harry he said in his laconic drawl, “Had trouble finding your way, did you?”
“No,” said Harry, and shucked his shoes. He got onto the bed.
“Aren’t you going to take your clothes off?”
“No,” Harry said again. “Come here.” He pulled Draco against him again, pushing Draco’s head down so that it fit into the crook of his neck against his shoulder, like before.
“That’s not fair,” said Draco.
Harry thought about that. “Is this the way you would act?” he asked. “And then I would tell you you were being a brat, and shut up and do what I told you, because I make the rules?”
Draco lifted his head to look at him, smiling. “Yes. Something like that. Even then I wouldn’t necessarily do what you said.”
“Ah.” Harry pulled him back down, and Draco settled with a contented little boneless slump. “And then what would I do?”
“Spank me,” Draco said immediately.
“I see,” said Harry, and began playing with Draco’s hair again. “With my hand?”
“Yes. Usually.”
“Except for that time with the riding crop.”
“There could be several times,” Draco said. His hand crawled back inside Harry’s shirt. “Just infrequent.”
“And that one time I break the skin, and lick it afterwards.”
A shiver started from the base of Draco’s spine and went delicately through him. “Yes, there would be that time.”
“But only once,” said Harry.
“Or maybe five or six times.”
“We’ll see.”
Draco went back to doodling things on Harry’s chest inside his shirt.
“My hand could really start to hurt, if you want me to spank you every time you talk back.”
“I suppose you could change it up.”
“Oh really?” said Harry, his tone flat. “May I?”
“Yes. You could tie me down as punishment instead.”
Harry’s hand paused in Draco’s hair, then slid down to his bare, vulnerable nape. “I might,” he said. “As long as the bonds don’t hurt too much.”
“You could use silk.”
“No,” said Harry. “I like rope.”
Draco shivered again. “Sweet Merlin.”
“I could gag you, too,” Harry suggested. His hand walked down the vertebra on Draco’s naked back. “But then, you seem to prefer having blue sparkled cock down your throat.”
Draco’s breath puffed so fast and hard that one spot on Harry’s t-shirt was starting to feel warm and damp. “I wish I could lie to you right now,” he whispered.
“What?”
“Don’t sound like that, Harry. I would tell you I didn’t want a blue sparkly dildo, and you would tell me I did. I’d glare at you and you’d-you’d say-you’d tell me to open my mouth and I would, but I’d still roll my eyes, and then just to serve me right you’d fuck my throat with it, until I moaned like a . . . a . . .”
“Bitch in heat?”
Draco tried to muffle his answer by burying his head against Harry’s shoulder with a sound like, “Mrph,” but Harry pulled him off, turning them so that Draco was on his back, and Harry was on his side beside him. “Yes,” said Draco, in an agonized, longing voice.
“And what would I say in order to get you to open your mouth?”
“I-I don’t know.”
Looking down at Draco, Harry put his thumb on the pink flesh of Draco’s bottom lip. “Could I say, ‘Open up, baby’? Could I tell you this pretty little mouth is going to look so good wrapped around that big, thick toy? Would you like that, since you’re nothing but a cocksucking little whore anyway?”
“Yes,” Draco hissed again.
“Good,” said Harry. “Your mouth was just made for it, didn’t you know? It’s made for cocksucking, and this throat, too.” His hand moved down the milky expanse of Draco’s soft throat. “This is all just another nice, tight wet hole to put cocks in, because that’s what you’re good for, isn’t it? You’re so good for it. Open up.”
Draco’s mouth opened, making a strangled sound, and Harry kissed him.
He kissed him long and soft and sweet, with Draco making whimpering sounds under him. Draco tried to put his arms around him, but Harry pushed them back down. He tried to deepen the kiss, but Harry went stubbornly slow. He made Draco lie back and take it, that loving, worshipping kiss.
Then he kissed a line down Draco’s jaw to his ear. “Now moan for it,” Harry whispered. “Just like the bitch you are.”
Draco moaned, his hips almost coming off the mattress.
“There’s a good boy,” said Harry.
Draco’s eyes were so dark they looked practically drugged. “You were made for this too,” he croaked.
If Harry had taken another dose of Veritaserum, he would have told him that he wasn’t. Instead, he kissed Draco again, and this time let Draco kiss him back. When he pulled away, Harry said, “What else?”
“What?” said Draco, still looking rather dreamy.
“How else do you want me to punish you?”
Blinking, Draco swallowed hard. “I didn’t really . . . those were my two big ideas for punishment. I told you, I don’t really like pain all that much. I would . . . after you spanked me, and my bum was all red, I’d want you to fuck me really hard. Or not as hard. If that was when you filled me up with honey and-and licked it out of my hole.”
“You really like that one.”
Despite the veritable shamelessness of this entire conversation for the last half hour or so, Draco flushed pink. “I like the ones I haven’t thought of a million times before.”
“So, it’s better if I think of new things.”
Draco’s eyelashes drifted down in a way that made him seem almost coy. “I like to anticipate things too, Harry.”
Harry glanced down as well. Draco’s hard, red prick curved against his belly, the angle it had been tending since fairly early in this discussion. Yes, Draco liked to wait.
“You mean you like to anticipate the time when I’m going to make you call me Daddy?”
The reaction to that started in Draco’s face, which went very still, and travelled through his body. His hips twisted minutely; his toes honest-to-god curled. “Yes,” he said.
“You’re waiting for the time when I’m going to tell you to suck Daddy’s prick, and you’ll suck it,” Harry said. “You’re anticipating that?”
“Yes,” Draco whispered.
“You’re anticipating sucking on Daddy’s big, thick prick, aren’t you,” said Harry. “You’re anticipating taking down as much as you can, and gagging on the rest. Just like a whore, aren’t you.” His hand travelled down Draco’s chest. “Do you anticipate pleasing me?”
“Yes,” said Draco strained.
“You’d spread your legs.” Harry opened Draco’s legs, his fingers brushing Draco’s balls, then moving to cup them gently. “You’d hold yourself open for Daddy, just hoping he fills you up. Hoping he fucks you, just like the slut you are.” Draco’s skin was tight in his hands. Harry only softly squeezed. “You’re such a good boy.”
“Oh God.” Draco writhed, hips lifting.
“That’s what you like,” Harry said, squeezing harder. “You want to be a good boy for your daddy. You love being a filthy comeslut; you love spreading open on a moment’s notice; you love lying back and taking anything I put in you because you’re such a good boy. Are you a good boy?”
Draco whimpered. “No.”
Harry remembered the Veritaserum. “Do you want to be a good boy?”
“No. Harry,” Draco said. “The serum.”
Harry found the right question. “Do you want me to tell you you’re a good boy while you’re on your knees with my cock down your throat?”
“Yes,” Draco gasped. “Yes. And,” he panted.
“And what?”
“And your hand in my hair, and you’re acting so calm, and I’d pretend I was such a good boy.”
Harry gently let him go. Draco, still hard, struggled to get his breath back. The silence stretched so long that Draco turned to him and put his hand over Harry’s heart. “Could you do that?” he said quietly.
“Yes.”
There was another silence. “Will you take the Veritaserum now?” Draco said.
Harry shook his head, trying to clear it. “I meant it. It’s just, you’re so . . . I never thought you’d like it this way.”
Draco twisted around further, so that he could look straight into Harry’s eyes. “Do you like it this way?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me something you want.”
“I just told you.”
“You can check if I want what you want, because I’ll have to tell the truth.” Draco looked at his hand, still covering Harry’s chest. “Tell me. I’ve been telling you.”
“But,” said Harry, and stopped when he realized he was about to say, you started it. When he thought about how difficult it had been for Draco to start it, how long he had planned it and how desperately he would have liked to have been honest, Harry decided it was only fair. “You know I haven’t thought about it as much as you have.”
“That’s okay,” said Draco. “Just say something. Anything.”
“I’ll get the Veritaserum,” he said, and got up to go to the kitchen.
Getting the other glass of Veritaserum, Harry tried to think of something he wanted. Hearing Draco speak all his fantasies definitely made it easier to understand the kind of thing he wanted, besides it being hot. He understood where it would be reassuring for Draco to hear something from him. But Harry hadn’t dwelt on fantasy in the way that Draco seemed to. Facing the fact that apparently he wanted to dominate Draco and call him dirty names was difficult enough. Trying to think of some buried deep desire he wasn’t even sure he had was even harder.
To hear the majority of the Weasleys tell it (even Ginny), men fantasized about having big cocks. Harry guessed that was true for him, too, when he thought about the things he had just said to Draco. But going in there and telling Draco he wanted him to tell him he had a big cock was sort of embarrassing. The whole thing was embarrassing, really. Draco was braver than he was.
Draco had been embarrassed of course, but he was the one naked in the bedroom, and Harry was the one dithering in the kitchen. When Harry thought of the way Draco had got worked up about Harry eating off his arse, getting called a cunt, dildos with sparkles, being generally being humiliated . . . .
Harry thought of something then, something he almost immediately dismissed. He’d dismissed it other times, he realized, thinking it wasn’t relevant. Now, he let himself dwell on it, playing out the fantasy. Then he picked up the glass of water and went back to the bedroom.
Draco was sitting uneasily on the bed, still naked. Harry leaned against the doorframe and watched him, drinking the water mixed with serum. “Well?” said Draco, looking over.
“Would you wear knickers, Draco?” Harry asked him.
Draco’s mouth opened, his eyes gone wide with surprise. “I-yes.”
“Good,” said Harry, and took a sip. “Would you like it?”
“I don’t . . .” There was a long pause in which Draco appeared to be surprised into thinking through something quite rapidly. “Yes,” he said, his voice rougher.
“That’s nice. You hadn’t thought of that before?”
“I had,” said Draco. “I just assumed I didn’t want it.”
“What changed your mind?”
“You said it. Then I imagined it.”
Harry positioned a chair near the foot of the bed, oriented so that he was watching Draco. He sat down, and put his empty glass on the floor. “What did you imagine?” he said.
“You telling me to wear them, and me wearing them even though I would pretend I didn’t want to. And then you looking at me while I was wearing them. You looking at me like you are right now.”
“That’s very nice,” said Harry, because it was. “Lie back.”
Draco looked at him.
“Lie back.” Harry put a loose hand around Draco’s ankle, and dragged down. Draco slipped an inch, then wiggled farther down on the bed. Harry stood up and arranged all the pillows behind Draco’s head, and then lay him back. His hand trailed down Draco’s heated chest. “There,” he said. “You look like a little lord.”
Draco snorted. “I’m not little.”
Harry sat back down, putting his hand around Draco’s ankle again. “What did they look like, when you imagined them? The knickers,” Harry said.
“I don’t think they had a colour.” Seeing Harry’s eyes narrow, he added, “But they could be pink. Or red.”
“Details,” said Harry.
“Satin, I suppose. Or some type of chinzy fabric. And . . .” Draco thought about it. “Ruffles.” Two points of color were high in his face. When he spoke, his voice was a murmur. “What kind did you imagine?”
The question took Harry by surprise. “White,” he said. “Lace.”
Draco lifted hot eyes to him. “Have you thought about it a lot?”
“No.” Harry’s had moved down to Draco’s foot, stroking his arch with his thumb. “I’ve thought of it before. I just assumed you wouldn’t go for it, and I didn’t need it.”
“It’s not always about what you need,” Draco said.
“Ask me what I want.” Harry’s voice was also rough.
Draco smiled. “What do you want, Harry?”
Harry relaxed, speaking lazily. “I want you to touch yourself while I tell you what I’d do to you.” Draco’s eyes widened, and then his hand started going down. “Wait. Accio oil.” The oil came out of the drawer into Harry’s hand, and Harry tossed it on the bed. “Use that.”
Draco huffed a laugh, probably due to Harry’s fondness for lubrication and sundry. He spread it on his hand.
“I want to see your cock in them,” Harry said. “Like the knickers were almost transparent, so I can see your cock trapped in them, where it’s not supposed to go. Lacy and delicate and nothing at all like you.”
Draco wrapped his hand around his cock.
“No,” said Harry. “Finger yourself. Just one finger first. I want you so hot you’re leaking. I’d want you to leak through them. Get your knickers wet.”
“Oh God,” said Draco. His hand moved down over his balls, reaching beneath them.
“Spread your legs. Lift your hips.” Harry stood, and wedged another pillow under Draco’s hips, lifting him up so Harry could see. Then he sat back down, and Draco was strewn out among pillows, skin looking transparent and like silk. “I’d tell you you were so dirty,” he said, “that you were such a slut. I’d tell you you loved soaking through your knickers, so you could show me what a whore you are.”
“Harry,” said Draco. He was straining against the odd position, the awkward arrangement of pillows.
“Put another in,” said Harry. “Get your hole as dripping wet as your cock.”
Shuddering, Draco pushed another finger in.
“I think I’d fuck you in the morning,” Harry said. “I’d fuck you full of spunk, and then I’d put a plug it, so you could have me inside you all day. Then I’d have you put your pretty knickers on over it. You’d put on your suit, your linen slacks, those silk shirts you like. You’d look very posh and proper, the way you always do. But underneath, you’d be wearing slutty knickers for me, and you’d be stuffed full of my come.”
Draco moaned, pushing fingers in.
“That looks very nice,” Harry told him. “You can use another one.” Draco pushed another finger in. “I can just imagine you at work,” Harry said. “Ordering everyone around like you always do. The way everyone’s either in love or afraid of you. You’re always so stern. So in charge. But underneath, you’d be wearing the knickers, and I would know that really-” Harry ran up a wall of Veritaserum. “Really, you want to be such a slut. Underneath, you’d be full of thick, fake cock, and just waiting for the moment when I would take it out and fuck your brains out.”
Draco’s other hand came up.
“I didn’t tell you you could touch your cock,” Harry said, laconic.
The hand hesitated.
Draco obviously wanted to do what Harry said, and at the same time wanted to lie and say he didn’t have to obey. Harry tried to think of a way to do it with the Veritaserum. “Are you going to touch that cock before I tell you to?”
Draco had been tense and strained before, but now his whole body went taut.
“Say you won’t touch your cock until I tell you to,” Harry said.
Draco released a long, panting breath. “I won’t touch my cock until you tell me to.” The Veritaserum would hold him to it.
“Good boy,” said Harry. He watched as another spasm moved through Draco, making his hips snap with his fingers still inside of him. “Fuck yourself on those fingers.”
Draco made a muffled sound, and fucked himself.
Harry still just watched, his own cock still hard and thick inside his jeans. He let the Veritaserum speak things, dirty, dirty things that he had never thought of until this moment. “What if in the morning, after fucking you, I put that honey you seem to like so much inside you too. Then you’d be nice and full and sticky, and I’d keep it all in you with that nice fake cock. Then you could wear your pretty knickers over it all, just knowing you had a treat you were keeping hot for me inside you all day.”
Draco cried out, his body jerking. “Please,” he whined. “Please.”
“You can touch your cock,” Harry told him. “Just don’t come.”
“Thank you.” Draco’s other hand came and wrapped around the base of his cock. “Thank you.”
“Do you like the thought of that? Me eating all that honey and cream out of you?”
“Yes.” Draco pushed his fingers harder inside of himself. “Yes, yes, yes.”
Harry didn’t ask whether he should do it, because he honestly didn’t know if he wanted to, and he didn’t know if Draco would want him to. He thought that Draco might say yes anyway, but all of it sounded rather unhygienic, even if the filthiness of it was what made it hot. Draco hadn’t seemed to notice he hadn’t spoken as if it would be a reality.
By then, Harry had already thought of something else. “So, you’d wear knickers.” Stretching out, he crossed his legs. His hand returned to Draco’s foot, thumb again on the arch. “Would you wear a skirt?”
Draco jerked against his touch, then that same hesitation. “I-I would if you told me to.”
“Do you want to?”
“Yes, if you-” Draco took several deep breaths. The Veritaserum was making him answer in full, but he currently had a fist wrapped around his cock and three fingers inside of him, and apparently was having trouble thinking. He eased his fingers out, sliding two back in in a much slower, leisurely way. When he looked at Harry, his jaw was slack, his pupils dilated.
“If I what?” said Harry, calmly.
Draco swallowed. “I suppose if you told me what a pretty toy I was.”
“You want me to tell you you’re a gorgeous little toy for fucking? That would make you happy?”
“Yes, but-” Draco bit his lower lip, easing fingers out of him. He was fucking himself slowly now. “I wouldn’t act happy.”
“You would act like a little brat, wouldn’t you.”
“Yes.”
“What if I told you I’d like you to take care of your pretty present? I’d get you a fluffy one, with lots of lace, and I would want you not to wreck it. You’d have to lift your skirts when we fucked, Draco. You’d have to worry about getting them dirty.”
“Oh.” Draco’s hand tightened on his cock. His fingers twisted inside of him.
“And if I wanted to suck that greedy little fuck hole you’ve got, you’d have to hold it up for me.”
“Yes,” said Draco, his hand moving harder now.
“I’d like to get you a schoolgirl one too,” Harry said. “You know, with the . . .” He waved a lazy hand. “Folds.”
“Pleats,” panted Draco.
“One of those.” Draco was spread out on the pile of pillows, legs spread wide. His head was lolling back, but the pillows propped it up so he could look at Harry, open-mouthed. He was the picture of wanton debasement.
Slut, Harry thought, and despite the things he had been saying, it was the first time he truly thought it of Draco. It almost seemed like a different word now, something private between just them. It didn’t seem to mean the other thousand things it was supposed to mean or could have meant; instead it meant just this, Draco open and wet and wanting him.
Harry adjusted his crotch, and made sure Draco could see him do it. “I’d get you a skirt like that, and knee socks. Then I would make you come to my desk, and bend over it. Hold on tight.”
“God. Are you really going to do it?”
“Then I’d lift up your skirt, so it was all just bunched up on your back. I’d look at your knickers, those pretty knickers I think you’ll love so much, pink and soft and slutty, just like you.”
Draco made a noise. “Please don’t stop.”
“I’d slide them off your arse,” said Harry, “dragging them all the way down between your thighs. And then I’d spank you. I’d spank those firm round cheeks of yours hard, for being such a slut.”
“You’re so good.” Draco was arched up, trying to finger himself and trying not to come. “It’s so good.”
“I’d tell you how filthy you are, dressing up like that. I’d tell you only little comeslut whores dress like slutty schoolgirls, and I’d ask you whether you were a filthy comeslut whore. It wouldn’t matter what you said, because I would know you were. And by then, you could be moaning just like a whore, anyway. Moan just like a whore,” Harry added, off-handed.
Draco did.
“And you remember what I do when I say all that noise annoys me. I put that big thick fake cock down your throat, and you take it like a bitch, don’t you. You just suck it down like a filthy slut.”
“Please do it,” Draco said.
“And then once that arse is hot and glowing red, I’d come all over it. Wouldn’t that look nice? That white spunk all over that red hot arse? Would you like it, Draco?”
“Yes. I like it; I love it; I want-”
“What do you want?”
“I want to come,” said Draco.
“Not yet.”
“Please.”
“No. I want to smear that hot come all over your arse. I’d rub it in like cream, and you’d be moaning and drooling around that fake cock in your mouth. I know you would. You’d want to just keep fucking your mouth with it while I rub come all over your arse, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes. Yes, please, Harry.”
“Good,” said Harry. “That’s really good. And that’s when I’d eat you out. Right after that come had been rubbed right into you, and I’d tell you you taste so sweet. And you could pull your skirt down over my head, and it would just be me and your hot arse, fucking you with my tongue. It would be your reward, for being such a good slut, taking that fake cock down your throat, and putting on pretty things for me. I’d tell you I loved it when you put on pretty things; I’d whisper it right into your lovely little cunt. You’d love that, wouldn’t you, darling?”
Draco looked at him with desperate eyes and came, his hips wild and unsteady. The mess was on his belly, on the bed.
Harry waited until Draco was a shivering mass in the mound of pillows, trying unsteadily to breathe. Then he stood up and licked it all off of Draco’s hot body, licking while Draco clumsily gripped his hair. He didn’t push down or pull up, just held on, as if to connect to reality.
“S-sorry,” said Draco.
“That was so hot,” Harry whispered, and kissed him. Shaking, Draco kissed him back. Then, tasting his own come, he moaned and kissed Harry deeper, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck.
Harry had tasted it plenty of times before, and Draco had tasted himself on Harry too. But never had he so bonelessly wrapped himself around Harry, trying to get more of it, his tongue licking out every part of Harry’s mouth. He was all hot and pliant like butter, and Harry was still hard.
“Let’s take care of this, shall we?” said Draco, when he at last pulled away, lips soft and melting down Harry’s cheek, his jaw. He reached for Harry’s prick.
“No,” said Harry, and took Draco’s hand away.
“But,” said Draco.
“In a bit. We haven’t got through everything.”
“Oh God. Hasn’t it gone on long enough?”
Harry pulled back. “Do you want this to end?”
Draco hesitated. Shaking back the hair that had fallen into his eyes, Draco said, “I sort of feel we’ve reached the denouement, having come.” But the Veritaserum made him add, “But I really liked you telling me your fantasies.”
“Yours too,” Harry pointed out.
“You made them mine.”
Harry smirked. “That’s what happens when you share,” he said, running a knuckle down Draco’s rather pointed nose.
Draco batted his hand away. “I admit there’s something liberating in . . . being perfectly honest.”
“Letting it all hang out,” Harry said.
Draco’s nose wrinkled. Then his features softened as he looked at Harry. “I couldn’t do it with just anyone,” he said, and then looked surprised he’d said it.
“There you go being soppy again.”
Draco pulled on him, so that Harry lay beside him, in his arms. “I’m not being soppy. I’m saying I can do this with you because I love you and trust you.” He rolled his eyes. “Dammit, Veritaserum.”
“That’s so sweet.” Harry smirked again. “You know I think everyone should be more open about things.”
“You’re the one who didn’t want to do this.”
“Yes, but I think people should just . . . face it. Own up to it. That sort of thing.”
Draco rolled his eyes again. “Share it with the world? I don’t think anyone would appreciate you standing on roof tops and telling everyone you want me in naughty schoolgirl outfits so that you can rub come onto my arse.”
Harry blushed hotly. “Well, no. But maybe if people were a little more open, I wouldn’t have buried this-whatever it is. And maybe you wouldn’t be ashamed.”
“Ah,” said Draco, and began to pull away.
Harry reached up to grab his chin. Pulling him down, he kissed him. “Don’t you act that way. This is going to work. It’s going to be brilliant.”
“It is,” the Veritaserum made Draco say, but he still looked unhappy.
“I’ll eat dinner off your arse,” Harry said. “I want to know about the men’s toilet.”
“Well,” said Draco, “ask me.” It was easier to answer questions than volunteer information under Veritaserum.
“Okay,” said Harry. “Would you want other people to see you?”
“I don’t know.”
Harry, surprised into silence, just looked up at him. Draco was biting his lower lip, eyes cast down. When Draco looked like that, open and vulnerable, all the sharp points gone away, Harry didn’t like to push. Harry pushed. “Why don’t you know?”
“Because I think it’s so hot,” Draco burst out, “but I would be so ashamed and embarrassed, and I’m sure there’s something about morality involved that I don’t understand, like not subjecting other people to your sexual fantasies. I like my plan because it’s just you and me. I don’t want-” he stopped. Whereas before he had looked perturbed, now he looked horrified.
“You don’t want what?”
“I don’t want,” Draco said again, “to,” he tried.
Suddenly, Harry knew what was going on. “What won’t the Veritaserum let you say?”
Draco looked ghastly. “Something I want to say.”
Harry felt his heart beat harder. “What won’t the Veritaserum let you say, that you want to say anyway?”
“I want to say that I don’t want to involve other people.”
Harry lay back, trying to process this. “You don’t want to involve other people, but you do.”
“I don’t know,” Draco said, and put his head in his hands. “I think I don’t. There’s just enough doubt. I didn’t know; I don’t want to-”
“Hey,” said Harry, and pulled on one of Draco’s wrists. “So you think you might want people watching us fuck. Why are you so upset?”
“Because I have other fantasies. Harry,” Draco said quickly, desperately. “I love you so much. I want you for the rest of my life; I want you-you’re mine. You belong to me, and I’m yours. I only want to be yours; I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“Okay,” said Harry. “That’s definitely something I’m going to make a big deal about later.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“No, twice in one night, saying I love you. I’ll probably Penseive it so I can watch it over and over and over. Though this time isn’t as good because you’ve got your hands over your face, and you’re so upset.”
“You . . .” Draco took his hand away from his face and looked at him. “You’re not upset.”
“We all have fantasies, Draco.”
His eyes narrowed. “Have you had fantasies like that?”
Harry shrugged. “I told you, I haven’t thought about them much. I’ve just . . . done what I want with you, and done the things I think you want. It’s been pretty nice. That doesn’t mean we can’t do new things. And it doesn’t mean we can’t talk about other things that maybe we won’t do.”
“Why do you choose now to grow philosophical?” Draco’s voice would have been cutting, ordinarily, but he sounded so worried.
Harry shrugged again. “Because you need it? Maybe it’s the Veritaserum.”
“Well,” said Draco, a little more calmly. “It’s very quaint, but did you know some things can break a marriage?”
“Not our-” Harry stoutly began, and then found he could not finish.
“Even ours,” said Draco, sadly.
“Okay.” Harry thought about it. “Maybe anything can be broken, if you try hard enough. But we’re not trying.”
“This would . . .” Draco couldn’t seem to finish that either. “It feels like I would be trying.”
Sitting up, Harry put his hands on Draco’s shoulders, and looked him right in the eyes. “I don’t mind if you have fantasies of sleeping around with other men. There. I said it.”
Draco recoiled from his hands. “I don’t have fantasies of sleeping around with other men!”
Harry blinked. “Er. I thought that’s what we were talking about.”
“We’re talking about other men putting their cocks in me while you tell them where to put them, and coming all over me when you tell them to come.” Draco scrambled off the bed.
Harry felt like he was approaching a wild animal. “Maybe you should have more water,” he suggested, after a while of Draco making crazy eyes.
“You . . .” Draco said again. “You’re not upset.”
“No.”
Draco’s eyes went narrow in suspicion. “Have you had fantasies of sleeping around with other men?”
“Not really.”
“Really,” said Draco, icily.
“I told you, I haven’t thought about it much. I haven’t thought much about anyone but you since we got married.”
“Really.”
“I notice some blokes are attractive. Maybe some part of me thinks about what it would be like. I don’t ever dream about fucking anyone but you.”
“I’m a bloody hypocrite,” said Draco.
“Yes, you are.” Harry went to him and kissed him.
For almost a whole minute, Draco just stood there in surprise. Then he was kissing him back, warm and naked and eager, the way Harry loved Draco best. Then he was pushing Harry back, crowding him against the wall, and Harry loved that too.
Pulling back his mouth, Draco still held him pinned to the wall. “I still don’t know how the fuck I ever caught you.”
Harry kissed him again. “Ordinarily I would say luck, but the Veritaserum is making me say hard work and determination.”
“Mm,” said Draco, and put his knee between Harry’s.
“Draco,” said Harry.
“Mm?”
“I want to ask you something.”
“Harry . . .” Draco sighed.
“That stuff, like calling you a slut, and making you wear things, all of that, can we ever . . . would you ever do that to me?”
Draco looked so surprised it was almost comical. “I can’t . . . imagine you in a skirt,” he said at last, with effort.
“It’d be weird,” agreed Harry. “I’ve very hairy legs.”
“Harry,” Draco said again, and hesitated. He kissed him again, quickly. When he pulled away, he stayed close, so he didn’t have to look at him. “I’m not sure I could do it.”
“You wouldn’t have to be so very tough,” whispered Harry. “I’d say yes to anything you told me to do.”
At last, Draco pulled back. “You want to be a slut.”
“I want to be your slut.”
Then Draco started smirking. “There’s a problem, Harry. You already kind of are.”
“What?”
“Oh yes.” Draco’s voice was silky as he leaned back in. “You should hear the way you beg sometimes. You’ve always acted like such a shameless whore for it in bed.”
“God,” said Harry. “I love your cock.”
“Mm,” Draco said again. “You love it in you. Pounding you. Making you almost forget who you even are.”
“That’s-that’s-very distracting.” Draco was pressing his hardening cock against Harry’s hip.
“I think we’re right on task,” whispered Draco.
“No,” said Harry. “I want you to tell me about the men’s. Then I want you to tell me about all those men coming all over you.”
Draco slumped. “Somehow I knew you were going to say that. This really isn’t going to end, is it?”
“Not until it’s all out.”
“Give me a quill, why don’t you. We could write it down so we could share it with the world.”
“Does that have anything to do with wanting everyone to see you get fucked in the men’s?”
Draco shrugged. “Maybe all this sharing is just your form of exhibitionism.”
“I guess that’s true. It’s been pretty hot.”
“We could post it to the internet,” Draco said brightly.
Harry took off his shirt. “Do you need more Veritaserum?”
Apparently distracted by Harry’s chest, Draco said, “No.”
Then Harry started taking off his jeans. “Are you going to tell me those fantasies?”
After Harry had pulled his jeans and pants all the way off, Draco looked up. “If you really want me to.”
“I want you to,” said Harry.
“Oh goody.” Draco frowned. “Do I get the chair?”
“Okay.” Harry went and got on the bed, while Draco arranged himself in the chair. He put his legs on the bed, leisurely-like, looking even more like a lord than he had when he’d been on the bed. Harry just watched him. When Draco finally seemed to have arranged himself, and turned cool grey eyes back to him, Harry asked, “What about the men’s room?”
“It’s filthy,” Draco said succinctly. “Here, have some oil.” He tossed the little bottle on the bed.
Harry coated his hands. “What else?”
“Oh, we’re in a bar,” Draco said carelessly. “I’d be teasing you, making you so hot. Fondle your balls, Harry. No, I’m not so cruel as to make you finger yourself all night, not like some people. Anyway, you’re telling me to stop, but I won’t; I’m impossible. Irresistible. You can’t get over what a slut I am; I’m trying to feel you up right in the bar.”
“You really are such a slut,” said Harry. “A dirty little whore.”
Draco froze for a moment, then relaxed. “When did your Veritaserum go off?”
“It must have just done. I haven’t had as much as you. Yours isn’t?”
Draco shook his head the slightest fraction. “I couldn’t do this, without it.”
“Pity,” said Harry. “Keep going.”
“Harry . . .”
“You’re such a fucking slut, Draco, feeling me up in the bar like that.”
“Right.” Draco swallowed. “So, acting like you’re not going to give me anything, I flirt with the other boys at the bar. Just to make you notice,” he adds quickly.
“When really it’s because you’re such a little whore,” said Harry. “You’ll put out for anyone who looks your way; you just want to get that pussy so full of spunk.” Draco was frowning slightly, his eyes half-lidded. “Is that alright to say?”
“I want you to say it,” said Draco. “It’s not true.”
“I know.” Harry’s voice was gentle. “Don’t you think I know that? It’s okay.” Draco just looked so uncertain. “I love you too, you know.”
“I know,” said Draco. He took a deep breath. “Thank you.”
“We can stop,” said Harry.
“Touch your cock,” Draco said instead. Harry touched his cock, and Draco went on. “I keep flirting with these other men, and finally, you grab my wrist, and drag me to the men’s.”
“You’re mine.” Harry’s hand, slick and greasy, slid up his cock.
“Yes, because in this fantasy, I’m playing your fucktoy, and you don’t like other people touching your things, or so you say, once you get the men’s cleared out. Or maybe you don’t clear it. You just take me inside a filthy stall. Or maybe no one’s there, and you’ve got me on my knees in that horribly dirty place.”
“Just like you deserve.”
“Put a finger inside yourself, Harry,” said Draco, idly.
Harry left off stroking his cock to do what Draco said, taking it slow, stroking the tight ring with his finger tip before pressing deeper. He wanted this to last, because he could already tell Draco was going to make it good.
“In this fantasy, you’d tell me what a whore I was,” Draco said. “You’d tell me if all I wanted was cock down my throat, you could give it to me. You tell me if I want to lick come off pricks, I’m going to do it off yours. Then you open up your jeans and put that big thing in my face.”
“Yes,” hissed Harry, and pushed his finger all the way in.
“You tell me how much I love it.” Draco’s eyes were hot and bright, but the rest of him seemed very calm and still. This was a test of courage. “You tell me how I’m such a fucking whore, and you can hear me slurping and sucking like I’m having the time of my life, which-it might be very close to that, if I could bear it. I’d be so hard, but not touching myself, just to prove to you how much I love your enormous prick; I love it down my throat, I love trying to breathe with it, I love swallowing around it, choking on it. God, Harry. I do love gagging on your cock.”
Harry arched, pushing his finger in.
“You can put another one in,” Draco said. “And you’d tell me I have to swallow every drop of your come. You’d tell me how if any gets on the floor-that filthy, disgusting floor, I’m going to have to lick it up. And that thought . . . I’m so excited, I’m like a mindless . . . I want to be like a mindless slut that can’t think about anything but drinking all your come, and how I might have to lick it off the floor . . .”
Harry had two fingers inside of him now, and he saw what Draco meant about torture. He desperately wanted to touch his cock. He was so full, and aching with hardness. “What happens next?” he said roughly.
“You come in my mouth,” said Draco. “But sometimes it’s different. Sometimes, you pull out and come on my face, and I love it so much; I nee-want it desperately, but some gets on the floor. And then I have to figure out whether I actually want to lick . . .”
“Other times?” Harry said.
Draco seemed riveted to the long, slick movement of Harry’s fingers moving in and out. He swallowed. “Other times, someone walks in. We’re in a stall, and he hears the filthy things you’re saying to me. He goes out, and brings his friends in, so they’re all listening to you telling me what a filthy whore I am, and they can hear me slurping and moaning around your cock. They remember me because I acted so slutty with all of them, and now they know who I belong to.”
“Please,” said Harry. “Please. I need to touch my cock.”
“Not yet,” said Draco, probably just to torture him because Harry had done the same thing. “Put another finger in. And then there’s the times when you don’t come at all,” he went on.
“What?” said Harry, distracted by the slow process of easing another finger in.
“You bend me over one the of the sinks.” Draco was still naked, and his hand came down at last to his hard prick. “Or maybe over one of the dirty toilets. And you fuck me, hard.”
“Reminding you who you belong to.”
“Yes,” said Draco, holding to the base of his cock. “But sometimes that bloke comes in, while you’re fucking me. And you let this bloke know about the way I moan just like a whore.”
“He could hear you doing it.”
“Yes, but he doesn’t know how much it annoys you. He’s a perfect stranger, you see.”
“I see,” said Harry. “Draco, I want-”
“You can touch your cock,” said Draco. “You’re fucking me raw in that toilet right now; you may need to touch it.”
“Fuck.” Harry wrapped his hand around his cock, pretending he was fucking Draco in that toilet right now, with the stranger just coming in, and Harry telling the stranger that Draco moaned like a bitch in heat.
“And then you ask that stranger if he wants to shut me up,” said Draco.
“He’d say yes,” said Harry, pumping his cock now, his fingers inside him. “Who wouldn’t want to stuff those pretty lips full of big thick cock? He’d take one look at your mouth and know it was made for fucking. He’d look at that throat and just want to fill it up with his prick.”
“You’d let him.”
“In this fantasy, I’m letting him.”
“Harry,” Draco whispered. “I want to fuck you.”
“Fuck me,” Harry said.
Slowly, Draco stood, then got on the bed. Harry pulled his fingers free with a release of breath. Draco gripped his thighs, positioning Harry’s legs so the knees were bent; he was open wide. Then Draco pushed inside him, and Harry let go of another breath. Draco leaned in to Harry’s ear. “Tell me how you’d watch him fuck my mouth.”
Harry couldn’t believe that Draco expected him to think right now. “I’d watch him fuck your mouth,” he said obediently.
Draco pulled back slowly, then came in again, one hand still pushing Harry’s thigh below the knee. “Tell me how you’d fuck me from behind, all the while telling him what a slut I am, that I’ll just take anything anyone will put in me; I’ll take any cock.”
“You’ll take any cock,” said Harry, arching helplessly.
Draco’s other hand dragged long and hot down Harry’s chest as he thrust again. “Tell him I’m just a fuck toy, and slutty little fuck who likes to get used down and dirty, who needs to learn his place from time to time.” He leaned in again. “Tell him he can bring his friends.”
“He can bring his friends,” whispered Harry.
Draco shuddered, thrusting in again. “He’d come down my throat. Then he’d leave, and get his friends.”
“I’d tell you what a whore you are.” Harry was panting. “I’d tell you you’re such a whore, letting your throat get fucked like that. By a total stranger. And you’d tell me that you were, that you love it; you love getting fucked on your knees on that dirty floor.”
Groaning, Draco pushed in harder. “I love the thought of that. And the rest of the men come in the door, and see me there. They know I’m just your toy. Just something you own. And if you’re feeling generous-”
“I’m going to let them play.” Harry arched, dragging Draco in deeper. “I’m going to tell you to open up your mouth for whatever gets put in front of your face, and you’ll be sucking on another cock.”
“They’re all going to be talking about what a dirty whore I am.” Draco’s breath was catching.
This was better than doing it, Harry thought. Doing it, there would be so many complications: safety, shame, jealousy, the ugliness of it, the danger of strangers. But speaking of it-this was something they would do again, Harry thought. Again and again.
And maybe even, if they found someone they trusted . . . they could cross that bridge when they came to it. In the meantime, there was always Polyjuice . . .
“Yes,” said Harry. “They’re going to be impressed that you’re such a willing cocksucker. At the way you just swallow all of them down like you can never have enough pricks leaking down your throat, like the only thing that could ever feed you is more come. They’re going to think you’re such a nasty, dirty cunt.”
“God,” said Draco. His hips were snapping hard now. He wrapped a hand around Harry’s cock.
Harry arched again. “Yes. And when I’m through with your arse, another prick is going to come and fill up that nasty, greedy hole. You’ll just suck that cock in, won’t you, with that tight little fuck hole. Whoever’s cock it is.”
“Harry.” The pressure Draco was putting on Harry’s thigh was bending him almost in half.
“You’re going to be so dirty and tired and full of spunk when it’s all over,” Harry said. “So well used. Just a dirty, nasty thing.”
“Harry,” Draco said. “Harry.”
“Tell me I can come,” said Harry.
“Come. Oh God, please come. Come, Harry, I-”
Harry came, and Draco came after him, pumping hard, their bodies jerking. Draco made the most animal sounds when he did that, and never admitted to it afterwards.
The both shuddered against each other. Draco groaned, dragging himself up Harry’s body. Harry put his aching legs down. Draco hid his face in Harry’s shoulder.
At last, Harry put his hand in Draco’s hair. “That was bloody spectacular.”
“You don’t . . .” Draco’s fingers traced patterns on Harry’s chest, patterns of doubt in his voice.
“Spectacular,” said Harry.
“I think it’s awful,” said Draco.
“Well.” Harry huffed a tired laugh. “That was what I said in the beginning. There’s nothing wrong with having an imagination, Draco.”
“You know, sex scenes don’t last this long in real life.”
Harry glanced at the window over Draco’s shoulder. It looked like almost dawn. He brought his eyes back to Draco. “They do in porn.”
“Foreplay doesn’t last that long in porn.” Draco frowned against his chest.
“What, we have to be realistic now?” Harry smirked.
Draco pulled up to look at him. Messy blond hair brushed his eyebrows; he still wore a slight frown. “No,” he said slowly. “I don’t suppose we do.” He glanced down at his hand on Harry’s chest. “Those things would be very unsafe in real life.” He grimaced. “Not to mention unhygienic.”
“We don’t have to do them,” said Harry.
Slowly, Draco began to smirk. “You mean they don’t have to bear the light of day?”
Morning sunlight streamed through the window. Harry smiled too. “Not unless we want them to.”
Draco looked at him thoughtfully. “I really did marry the best man.” He settled against Harry again. “Goddamn Veritaserum.”
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Warnings: dirty talk, fingering, anal sex, with mention/discussion of dominance, submission, felching, object insertion, food porn, exhibitionism, spanking, cross-dressing, and, I don’t know, throw in like a consensual orgy
Summary: This entire fic is one long conversation about sex.
A/N: -Thanks ever so to hereticalvision for the Brit pick and SPAG; all mistakes are mine
-There is potential gross-out; heed the warnings
-For me, this is a little like showing some sex toys I like. If you're here for the Schopenhauer come back next week.
go to: part 1
Sex, Lies, and Veritaserum - pt 2
In the living room, Harry looked down at the Veritaserum. He would like some of that, the long cool spill of liquid down his throat. He would like to say with the serum’s certainty that he wanted this, because he knew he did. The only problem was, he hadn’t known he’d wanted it as long as Draco. He hadn’t had time to grow used to this, to imagine every detail.
He thought of Draco, eager and excited and courageous in there, because he could finally admit that he wanted this, even if it was only with the help of Veritaserum. Harry wondered whether Draco could really be this happy if any of this was so very wrong.
He thought of Draco at Christmas time, the way he was in anticipation of presents. He thought of Draco when they had moved in together, the way he had been celebratory by wanting to christen every room by fucking. He thought of Draco again, pink and pale and no doubt waiting for him on the bed, breathless just like it was Christmas, and joyful in the way he was when he got to do new things with Harry.
Harry walked into the bedroom.
Draco was waiting naked on the bed, just as breathless as Harry had imagined. Maybe more nervous than Harry had suspected, because when he saw Harry he said in his laconic drawl, “Had trouble finding your way, did you?”
“No,” said Harry, and shucked his shoes. He got onto the bed.
“Aren’t you going to take your clothes off?”
“No,” Harry said again. “Come here.” He pulled Draco against him again, pushing Draco’s head down so that it fit into the crook of his neck against his shoulder, like before.
“That’s not fair,” said Draco.
Harry thought about that. “Is this the way you would act?” he asked. “And then I would tell you you were being a brat, and shut up and do what I told you, because I make the rules?”
Draco lifted his head to look at him, smiling. “Yes. Something like that. Even then I wouldn’t necessarily do what you said.”
“Ah.” Harry pulled him back down, and Draco settled with a contented little boneless slump. “And then what would I do?”
“Spank me,” Draco said immediately.
“I see,” said Harry, and began playing with Draco’s hair again. “With my hand?”
“Yes. Usually.”
“Except for that time with the riding crop.”
“There could be several times,” Draco said. His hand crawled back inside Harry’s shirt. “Just infrequent.”
“And that one time I break the skin, and lick it afterwards.”
A shiver started from the base of Draco’s spine and went delicately through him. “Yes, there would be that time.”
“But only once,” said Harry.
“Or maybe five or six times.”
“We’ll see.”
Draco went back to doodling things on Harry’s chest inside his shirt.
“My hand could really start to hurt, if you want me to spank you every time you talk back.”
“I suppose you could change it up.”
“Oh really?” said Harry, his tone flat. “May I?”
“Yes. You could tie me down as punishment instead.”
Harry’s hand paused in Draco’s hair, then slid down to his bare, vulnerable nape. “I might,” he said. “As long as the bonds don’t hurt too much.”
“You could use silk.”
“No,” said Harry. “I like rope.”
Draco shivered again. “Sweet Merlin.”
“I could gag you, too,” Harry suggested. His hand walked down the vertebra on Draco’s naked back. “But then, you seem to prefer having blue sparkled cock down your throat.”
Draco’s breath puffed so fast and hard that one spot on Harry’s t-shirt was starting to feel warm and damp. “I wish I could lie to you right now,” he whispered.
“What?”
“Don’t sound like that, Harry. I would tell you I didn’t want a blue sparkly dildo, and you would tell me I did. I’d glare at you and you’d-you’d say-you’d tell me to open my mouth and I would, but I’d still roll my eyes, and then just to serve me right you’d fuck my throat with it, until I moaned like a . . . a . . .”
“Bitch in heat?”
Draco tried to muffle his answer by burying his head against Harry’s shoulder with a sound like, “Mrph,” but Harry pulled him off, turning them so that Draco was on his back, and Harry was on his side beside him. “Yes,” said Draco, in an agonized, longing voice.
“And what would I say in order to get you to open your mouth?”
“I-I don’t know.”
Looking down at Draco, Harry put his thumb on the pink flesh of Draco’s bottom lip. “Could I say, ‘Open up, baby’? Could I tell you this pretty little mouth is going to look so good wrapped around that big, thick toy? Would you like that, since you’re nothing but a cocksucking little whore anyway?”
“Yes,” Draco hissed again.
“Good,” said Harry. “Your mouth was just made for it, didn’t you know? It’s made for cocksucking, and this throat, too.” His hand moved down the milky expanse of Draco’s soft throat. “This is all just another nice, tight wet hole to put cocks in, because that’s what you’re good for, isn’t it? You’re so good for it. Open up.”
Draco’s mouth opened, making a strangled sound, and Harry kissed him.
He kissed him long and soft and sweet, with Draco making whimpering sounds under him. Draco tried to put his arms around him, but Harry pushed them back down. He tried to deepen the kiss, but Harry went stubbornly slow. He made Draco lie back and take it, that loving, worshipping kiss.
Then he kissed a line down Draco’s jaw to his ear. “Now moan for it,” Harry whispered. “Just like the bitch you are.”
Draco moaned, his hips almost coming off the mattress.
“There’s a good boy,” said Harry.
Draco’s eyes were so dark they looked practically drugged. “You were made for this too,” he croaked.
If Harry had taken another dose of Veritaserum, he would have told him that he wasn’t. Instead, he kissed Draco again, and this time let Draco kiss him back. When he pulled away, Harry said, “What else?”
“What?” said Draco, still looking rather dreamy.
“How else do you want me to punish you?”
Blinking, Draco swallowed hard. “I didn’t really . . . those were my two big ideas for punishment. I told you, I don’t really like pain all that much. I would . . . after you spanked me, and my bum was all red, I’d want you to fuck me really hard. Or not as hard. If that was when you filled me up with honey and-and licked it out of my hole.”
“You really like that one.”
Despite the veritable shamelessness of this entire conversation for the last half hour or so, Draco flushed pink. “I like the ones I haven’t thought of a million times before.”
“So, it’s better if I think of new things.”
Draco’s eyelashes drifted down in a way that made him seem almost coy. “I like to anticipate things too, Harry.”
Harry glanced down as well. Draco’s hard, red prick curved against his belly, the angle it had been tending since fairly early in this discussion. Yes, Draco liked to wait.
“You mean you like to anticipate the time when I’m going to make you call me Daddy?”
The reaction to that started in Draco’s face, which went very still, and travelled through his body. His hips twisted minutely; his toes honest-to-god curled. “Yes,” he said.
“You’re waiting for the time when I’m going to tell you to suck Daddy’s prick, and you’ll suck it,” Harry said. “You’re anticipating that?”
“Yes,” Draco whispered.
“You’re anticipating sucking on Daddy’s big, thick prick, aren’t you,” said Harry. “You’re anticipating taking down as much as you can, and gagging on the rest. Just like a whore, aren’t you.” His hand travelled down Draco’s chest. “Do you anticipate pleasing me?”
“Yes,” said Draco strained.
“You’d spread your legs.” Harry opened Draco’s legs, his fingers brushing Draco’s balls, then moving to cup them gently. “You’d hold yourself open for Daddy, just hoping he fills you up. Hoping he fucks you, just like the slut you are.” Draco’s skin was tight in his hands. Harry only softly squeezed. “You’re such a good boy.”
“Oh God.” Draco writhed, hips lifting.
“That’s what you like,” Harry said, squeezing harder. “You want to be a good boy for your daddy. You love being a filthy comeslut; you love spreading open on a moment’s notice; you love lying back and taking anything I put in you because you’re such a good boy. Are you a good boy?”
Draco whimpered. “No.”
Harry remembered the Veritaserum. “Do you want to be a good boy?”
“No. Harry,” Draco said. “The serum.”
Harry found the right question. “Do you want me to tell you you’re a good boy while you’re on your knees with my cock down your throat?”
“Yes,” Draco gasped. “Yes. And,” he panted.
“And what?”
“And your hand in my hair, and you’re acting so calm, and I’d pretend I was such a good boy.”
Harry gently let him go. Draco, still hard, struggled to get his breath back. The silence stretched so long that Draco turned to him and put his hand over Harry’s heart. “Could you do that?” he said quietly.
“Yes.”
There was another silence. “Will you take the Veritaserum now?” Draco said.
Harry shook his head, trying to clear it. “I meant it. It’s just, you’re so . . . I never thought you’d like it this way.”
Draco twisted around further, so that he could look straight into Harry’s eyes. “Do you like it this way?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me something you want.”
“I just told you.”
“You can check if I want what you want, because I’ll have to tell the truth.” Draco looked at his hand, still covering Harry’s chest. “Tell me. I’ve been telling you.”
“But,” said Harry, and stopped when he realized he was about to say, you started it. When he thought about how difficult it had been for Draco to start it, how long he had planned it and how desperately he would have liked to have been honest, Harry decided it was only fair. “You know I haven’t thought about it as much as you have.”
“That’s okay,” said Draco. “Just say something. Anything.”
“I’ll get the Veritaserum,” he said, and got up to go to the kitchen.
Getting the other glass of Veritaserum, Harry tried to think of something he wanted. Hearing Draco speak all his fantasies definitely made it easier to understand the kind of thing he wanted, besides it being hot. He understood where it would be reassuring for Draco to hear something from him. But Harry hadn’t dwelt on fantasy in the way that Draco seemed to. Facing the fact that apparently he wanted to dominate Draco and call him dirty names was difficult enough. Trying to think of some buried deep desire he wasn’t even sure he had was even harder.
To hear the majority of the Weasleys tell it (even Ginny), men fantasized about having big cocks. Harry guessed that was true for him, too, when he thought about the things he had just said to Draco. But going in there and telling Draco he wanted him to tell him he had a big cock was sort of embarrassing. The whole thing was embarrassing, really. Draco was braver than he was.
Draco had been embarrassed of course, but he was the one naked in the bedroom, and Harry was the one dithering in the kitchen. When Harry thought of the way Draco had got worked up about Harry eating off his arse, getting called a cunt, dildos with sparkles, being generally being humiliated . . . .
Harry thought of something then, something he almost immediately dismissed. He’d dismissed it other times, he realized, thinking it wasn’t relevant. Now, he let himself dwell on it, playing out the fantasy. Then he picked up the glass of water and went back to the bedroom.
Draco was sitting uneasily on the bed, still naked. Harry leaned against the doorframe and watched him, drinking the water mixed with serum. “Well?” said Draco, looking over.
“Would you wear knickers, Draco?” Harry asked him.
Draco’s mouth opened, his eyes gone wide with surprise. “I-yes.”
“Good,” said Harry, and took a sip. “Would you like it?”
“I don’t . . .” There was a long pause in which Draco appeared to be surprised into thinking through something quite rapidly. “Yes,” he said, his voice rougher.
“That’s nice. You hadn’t thought of that before?”
“I had,” said Draco. “I just assumed I didn’t want it.”
“What changed your mind?”
“You said it. Then I imagined it.”
Harry positioned a chair near the foot of the bed, oriented so that he was watching Draco. He sat down, and put his empty glass on the floor. “What did you imagine?” he said.
“You telling me to wear them, and me wearing them even though I would pretend I didn’t want to. And then you looking at me while I was wearing them. You looking at me like you are right now.”
“That’s very nice,” said Harry, because it was. “Lie back.”
Draco looked at him.
“Lie back.” Harry put a loose hand around Draco’s ankle, and dragged down. Draco slipped an inch, then wiggled farther down on the bed. Harry stood up and arranged all the pillows behind Draco’s head, and then lay him back. His hand trailed down Draco’s heated chest. “There,” he said. “You look like a little lord.”
Draco snorted. “I’m not little.”
Harry sat back down, putting his hand around Draco’s ankle again. “What did they look like, when you imagined them? The knickers,” Harry said.
“I don’t think they had a colour.” Seeing Harry’s eyes narrow, he added, “But they could be pink. Or red.”
“Details,” said Harry.
“Satin, I suppose. Or some type of chinzy fabric. And . . .” Draco thought about it. “Ruffles.” Two points of color were high in his face. When he spoke, his voice was a murmur. “What kind did you imagine?”
The question took Harry by surprise. “White,” he said. “Lace.”
Draco lifted hot eyes to him. “Have you thought about it a lot?”
“No.” Harry’s had moved down to Draco’s foot, stroking his arch with his thumb. “I’ve thought of it before. I just assumed you wouldn’t go for it, and I didn’t need it.”
“It’s not always about what you need,” Draco said.
“Ask me what I want.” Harry’s voice was also rough.
Draco smiled. “What do you want, Harry?”
Harry relaxed, speaking lazily. “I want you to touch yourself while I tell you what I’d do to you.” Draco’s eyes widened, and then his hand started going down. “Wait. Accio oil.” The oil came out of the drawer into Harry’s hand, and Harry tossed it on the bed. “Use that.”
Draco huffed a laugh, probably due to Harry’s fondness for lubrication and sundry. He spread it on his hand.
“I want to see your cock in them,” Harry said. “Like the knickers were almost transparent, so I can see your cock trapped in them, where it’s not supposed to go. Lacy and delicate and nothing at all like you.”
Draco wrapped his hand around his cock.
“No,” said Harry. “Finger yourself. Just one finger first. I want you so hot you’re leaking. I’d want you to leak through them. Get your knickers wet.”
“Oh God,” said Draco. His hand moved down over his balls, reaching beneath them.
“Spread your legs. Lift your hips.” Harry stood, and wedged another pillow under Draco’s hips, lifting him up so Harry could see. Then he sat back down, and Draco was strewn out among pillows, skin looking transparent and like silk. “I’d tell you you were so dirty,” he said, “that you were such a slut. I’d tell you you loved soaking through your knickers, so you could show me what a whore you are.”
“Harry,” said Draco. He was straining against the odd position, the awkward arrangement of pillows.
“Put another in,” said Harry. “Get your hole as dripping wet as your cock.”
Shuddering, Draco pushed another finger in.
“I think I’d fuck you in the morning,” Harry said. “I’d fuck you full of spunk, and then I’d put a plug it, so you could have me inside you all day. Then I’d have you put your pretty knickers on over it. You’d put on your suit, your linen slacks, those silk shirts you like. You’d look very posh and proper, the way you always do. But underneath, you’d be wearing slutty knickers for me, and you’d be stuffed full of my come.”
Draco moaned, pushing fingers in.
“That looks very nice,” Harry told him. “You can use another one.” Draco pushed another finger in. “I can just imagine you at work,” Harry said. “Ordering everyone around like you always do. The way everyone’s either in love or afraid of you. You’re always so stern. So in charge. But underneath, you’d be wearing the knickers, and I would know that really-” Harry ran up a wall of Veritaserum. “Really, you want to be such a slut. Underneath, you’d be full of thick, fake cock, and just waiting for the moment when I would take it out and fuck your brains out.”
Draco’s other hand came up.
“I didn’t tell you you could touch your cock,” Harry said, laconic.
The hand hesitated.
Draco obviously wanted to do what Harry said, and at the same time wanted to lie and say he didn’t have to obey. Harry tried to think of a way to do it with the Veritaserum. “Are you going to touch that cock before I tell you to?”
Draco had been tense and strained before, but now his whole body went taut.
“Say you won’t touch your cock until I tell you to,” Harry said.
Draco released a long, panting breath. “I won’t touch my cock until you tell me to.” The Veritaserum would hold him to it.
“Good boy,” said Harry. He watched as another spasm moved through Draco, making his hips snap with his fingers still inside of him. “Fuck yourself on those fingers.”
Draco made a muffled sound, and fucked himself.
Harry still just watched, his own cock still hard and thick inside his jeans. He let the Veritaserum speak things, dirty, dirty things that he had never thought of until this moment. “What if in the morning, after fucking you, I put that honey you seem to like so much inside you too. Then you’d be nice and full and sticky, and I’d keep it all in you with that nice fake cock. Then you could wear your pretty knickers over it all, just knowing you had a treat you were keeping hot for me inside you all day.”
Draco cried out, his body jerking. “Please,” he whined. “Please.”
“You can touch your cock,” Harry told him. “Just don’t come.”
“Thank you.” Draco’s other hand came and wrapped around the base of his cock. “Thank you.”
“Do you like the thought of that? Me eating all that honey and cream out of you?”
“Yes.” Draco pushed his fingers harder inside of himself. “Yes, yes, yes.”
Harry didn’t ask whether he should do it, because he honestly didn’t know if he wanted to, and he didn’t know if Draco would want him to. He thought that Draco might say yes anyway, but all of it sounded rather unhygienic, even if the filthiness of it was what made it hot. Draco hadn’t seemed to notice he hadn’t spoken as if it would be a reality.
By then, Harry had already thought of something else. “So, you’d wear knickers.” Stretching out, he crossed his legs. His hand returned to Draco’s foot, thumb again on the arch. “Would you wear a skirt?”
Draco jerked against his touch, then that same hesitation. “I-I would if you told me to.”
“Do you want to?”
“Yes, if you-” Draco took several deep breaths. The Veritaserum was making him answer in full, but he currently had a fist wrapped around his cock and three fingers inside of him, and apparently was having trouble thinking. He eased his fingers out, sliding two back in in a much slower, leisurely way. When he looked at Harry, his jaw was slack, his pupils dilated.
“If I what?” said Harry, calmly.
Draco swallowed. “I suppose if you told me what a pretty toy I was.”
“You want me to tell you you’re a gorgeous little toy for fucking? That would make you happy?”
“Yes, but-” Draco bit his lower lip, easing fingers out of him. He was fucking himself slowly now. “I wouldn’t act happy.”
“You would act like a little brat, wouldn’t you.”
“Yes.”
“What if I told you I’d like you to take care of your pretty present? I’d get you a fluffy one, with lots of lace, and I would want you not to wreck it. You’d have to lift your skirts when we fucked, Draco. You’d have to worry about getting them dirty.”
“Oh.” Draco’s hand tightened on his cock. His fingers twisted inside of him.
“And if I wanted to suck that greedy little fuck hole you’ve got, you’d have to hold it up for me.”
“Yes,” said Draco, his hand moving harder now.
“I’d like to get you a schoolgirl one too,” Harry said. “You know, with the . . .” He waved a lazy hand. “Folds.”
“Pleats,” panted Draco.
“One of those.” Draco was spread out on the pile of pillows, legs spread wide. His head was lolling back, but the pillows propped it up so he could look at Harry, open-mouthed. He was the picture of wanton debasement.
Slut, Harry thought, and despite the things he had been saying, it was the first time he truly thought it of Draco. It almost seemed like a different word now, something private between just them. It didn’t seem to mean the other thousand things it was supposed to mean or could have meant; instead it meant just this, Draco open and wet and wanting him.
Harry adjusted his crotch, and made sure Draco could see him do it. “I’d get you a skirt like that, and knee socks. Then I would make you come to my desk, and bend over it. Hold on tight.”
“God. Are you really going to do it?”
“Then I’d lift up your skirt, so it was all just bunched up on your back. I’d look at your knickers, those pretty knickers I think you’ll love so much, pink and soft and slutty, just like you.”
Draco made a noise. “Please don’t stop.”
“I’d slide them off your arse,” said Harry, “dragging them all the way down between your thighs. And then I’d spank you. I’d spank those firm round cheeks of yours hard, for being such a slut.”
“You’re so good.” Draco was arched up, trying to finger himself and trying not to come. “It’s so good.”
“I’d tell you how filthy you are, dressing up like that. I’d tell you only little comeslut whores dress like slutty schoolgirls, and I’d ask you whether you were a filthy comeslut whore. It wouldn’t matter what you said, because I would know you were. And by then, you could be moaning just like a whore, anyway. Moan just like a whore,” Harry added, off-handed.
Draco did.
“And you remember what I do when I say all that noise annoys me. I put that big thick fake cock down your throat, and you take it like a bitch, don’t you. You just suck it down like a filthy slut.”
“Please do it,” Draco said.
“And then once that arse is hot and glowing red, I’d come all over it. Wouldn’t that look nice? That white spunk all over that red hot arse? Would you like it, Draco?”
“Yes. I like it; I love it; I want-”
“What do you want?”
“I want to come,” said Draco.
“Not yet.”
“Please.”
“No. I want to smear that hot come all over your arse. I’d rub it in like cream, and you’d be moaning and drooling around that fake cock in your mouth. I know you would. You’d want to just keep fucking your mouth with it while I rub come all over your arse, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes. Yes, please, Harry.”
“Good,” said Harry. “That’s really good. And that’s when I’d eat you out. Right after that come had been rubbed right into you, and I’d tell you you taste so sweet. And you could pull your skirt down over my head, and it would just be me and your hot arse, fucking you with my tongue. It would be your reward, for being such a good slut, taking that fake cock down your throat, and putting on pretty things for me. I’d tell you I loved it when you put on pretty things; I’d whisper it right into your lovely little cunt. You’d love that, wouldn’t you, darling?”
Draco looked at him with desperate eyes and came, his hips wild and unsteady. The mess was on his belly, on the bed.
Harry waited until Draco was a shivering mass in the mound of pillows, trying unsteadily to breathe. Then he stood up and licked it all off of Draco’s hot body, licking while Draco clumsily gripped his hair. He didn’t push down or pull up, just held on, as if to connect to reality.
“S-sorry,” said Draco.
“That was so hot,” Harry whispered, and kissed him. Shaking, Draco kissed him back. Then, tasting his own come, he moaned and kissed Harry deeper, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck.
Harry had tasted it plenty of times before, and Draco had tasted himself on Harry too. But never had he so bonelessly wrapped himself around Harry, trying to get more of it, his tongue licking out every part of Harry’s mouth. He was all hot and pliant like butter, and Harry was still hard.
“Let’s take care of this, shall we?” said Draco, when he at last pulled away, lips soft and melting down Harry’s cheek, his jaw. He reached for Harry’s prick.
“No,” said Harry, and took Draco’s hand away.
“But,” said Draco.
“In a bit. We haven’t got through everything.”
“Oh God. Hasn’t it gone on long enough?”
Harry pulled back. “Do you want this to end?”
Draco hesitated. Shaking back the hair that had fallen into his eyes, Draco said, “I sort of feel we’ve reached the denouement, having come.” But the Veritaserum made him add, “But I really liked you telling me your fantasies.”
“Yours too,” Harry pointed out.
“You made them mine.”
Harry smirked. “That’s what happens when you share,” he said, running a knuckle down Draco’s rather pointed nose.
Draco batted his hand away. “I admit there’s something liberating in . . . being perfectly honest.”
“Letting it all hang out,” Harry said.
Draco’s nose wrinkled. Then his features softened as he looked at Harry. “I couldn’t do it with just anyone,” he said, and then looked surprised he’d said it.
“There you go being soppy again.”
Draco pulled on him, so that Harry lay beside him, in his arms. “I’m not being soppy. I’m saying I can do this with you because I love you and trust you.” He rolled his eyes. “Dammit, Veritaserum.”
“That’s so sweet.” Harry smirked again. “You know I think everyone should be more open about things.”
“You’re the one who didn’t want to do this.”
“Yes, but I think people should just . . . face it. Own up to it. That sort of thing.”
Draco rolled his eyes again. “Share it with the world? I don’t think anyone would appreciate you standing on roof tops and telling everyone you want me in naughty schoolgirl outfits so that you can rub come onto my arse.”
Harry blushed hotly. “Well, no. But maybe if people were a little more open, I wouldn’t have buried this-whatever it is. And maybe you wouldn’t be ashamed.”
“Ah,” said Draco, and began to pull away.
Harry reached up to grab his chin. Pulling him down, he kissed him. “Don’t you act that way. This is going to work. It’s going to be brilliant.”
“It is,” the Veritaserum made Draco say, but he still looked unhappy.
“I’ll eat dinner off your arse,” Harry said. “I want to know about the men’s toilet.”
“Well,” said Draco, “ask me.” It was easier to answer questions than volunteer information under Veritaserum.
“Okay,” said Harry. “Would you want other people to see you?”
“I don’t know.”
Harry, surprised into silence, just looked up at him. Draco was biting his lower lip, eyes cast down. When Draco looked like that, open and vulnerable, all the sharp points gone away, Harry didn’t like to push. Harry pushed. “Why don’t you know?”
“Because I think it’s so hot,” Draco burst out, “but I would be so ashamed and embarrassed, and I’m sure there’s something about morality involved that I don’t understand, like not subjecting other people to your sexual fantasies. I like my plan because it’s just you and me. I don’t want-” he stopped. Whereas before he had looked perturbed, now he looked horrified.
“You don’t want what?”
“I don’t want,” Draco said again, “to,” he tried.
Suddenly, Harry knew what was going on. “What won’t the Veritaserum let you say?”
Draco looked ghastly. “Something I want to say.”
Harry felt his heart beat harder. “What won’t the Veritaserum let you say, that you want to say anyway?”
“I want to say that I don’t want to involve other people.”
Harry lay back, trying to process this. “You don’t want to involve other people, but you do.”
“I don’t know,” Draco said, and put his head in his hands. “I think I don’t. There’s just enough doubt. I didn’t know; I don’t want to-”
“Hey,” said Harry, and pulled on one of Draco’s wrists. “So you think you might want people watching us fuck. Why are you so upset?”
“Because I have other fantasies. Harry,” Draco said quickly, desperately. “I love you so much. I want you for the rest of my life; I want you-you’re mine. You belong to me, and I’m yours. I only want to be yours; I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“Okay,” said Harry. “That’s definitely something I’m going to make a big deal about later.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“No, twice in one night, saying I love you. I’ll probably Penseive it so I can watch it over and over and over. Though this time isn’t as good because you’ve got your hands over your face, and you’re so upset.”
“You . . .” Draco took his hand away from his face and looked at him. “You’re not upset.”
“We all have fantasies, Draco.”
His eyes narrowed. “Have you had fantasies like that?”
Harry shrugged. “I told you, I haven’t thought about them much. I’ve just . . . done what I want with you, and done the things I think you want. It’s been pretty nice. That doesn’t mean we can’t do new things. And it doesn’t mean we can’t talk about other things that maybe we won’t do.”
“Why do you choose now to grow philosophical?” Draco’s voice would have been cutting, ordinarily, but he sounded so worried.
Harry shrugged again. “Because you need it? Maybe it’s the Veritaserum.”
“Well,” said Draco, a little more calmly. “It’s very quaint, but did you know some things can break a marriage?”
“Not our-” Harry stoutly began, and then found he could not finish.
“Even ours,” said Draco, sadly.
“Okay.” Harry thought about it. “Maybe anything can be broken, if you try hard enough. But we’re not trying.”
“This would . . .” Draco couldn’t seem to finish that either. “It feels like I would be trying.”
Sitting up, Harry put his hands on Draco’s shoulders, and looked him right in the eyes. “I don’t mind if you have fantasies of sleeping around with other men. There. I said it.”
Draco recoiled from his hands. “I don’t have fantasies of sleeping around with other men!”
Harry blinked. “Er. I thought that’s what we were talking about.”
“We’re talking about other men putting their cocks in me while you tell them where to put them, and coming all over me when you tell them to come.” Draco scrambled off the bed.
Harry felt like he was approaching a wild animal. “Maybe you should have more water,” he suggested, after a while of Draco making crazy eyes.
“You . . .” Draco said again. “You’re not upset.”
“No.”
Draco’s eyes went narrow in suspicion. “Have you had fantasies of sleeping around with other men?”
“Not really.”
“Really,” said Draco, icily.
“I told you, I haven’t thought about it much. I haven’t thought much about anyone but you since we got married.”
“Really.”
“I notice some blokes are attractive. Maybe some part of me thinks about what it would be like. I don’t ever dream about fucking anyone but you.”
“I’m a bloody hypocrite,” said Draco.
“Yes, you are.” Harry went to him and kissed him.
For almost a whole minute, Draco just stood there in surprise. Then he was kissing him back, warm and naked and eager, the way Harry loved Draco best. Then he was pushing Harry back, crowding him against the wall, and Harry loved that too.
Pulling back his mouth, Draco still held him pinned to the wall. “I still don’t know how the fuck I ever caught you.”
Harry kissed him again. “Ordinarily I would say luck, but the Veritaserum is making me say hard work and determination.”
“Mm,” said Draco, and put his knee between Harry’s.
“Draco,” said Harry.
“Mm?”
“I want to ask you something.”
“Harry . . .” Draco sighed.
“That stuff, like calling you a slut, and making you wear things, all of that, can we ever . . . would you ever do that to me?”
Draco looked so surprised it was almost comical. “I can’t . . . imagine you in a skirt,” he said at last, with effort.
“It’d be weird,” agreed Harry. “I’ve very hairy legs.”
“Harry,” Draco said again, and hesitated. He kissed him again, quickly. When he pulled away, he stayed close, so he didn’t have to look at him. “I’m not sure I could do it.”
“You wouldn’t have to be so very tough,” whispered Harry. “I’d say yes to anything you told me to do.”
At last, Draco pulled back. “You want to be a slut.”
“I want to be your slut.”
Then Draco started smirking. “There’s a problem, Harry. You already kind of are.”
“What?”
“Oh yes.” Draco’s voice was silky as he leaned back in. “You should hear the way you beg sometimes. You’ve always acted like such a shameless whore for it in bed.”
“God,” said Harry. “I love your cock.”
“Mm,” Draco said again. “You love it in you. Pounding you. Making you almost forget who you even are.”
“That’s-that’s-very distracting.” Draco was pressing his hardening cock against Harry’s hip.
“I think we’re right on task,” whispered Draco.
“No,” said Harry. “I want you to tell me about the men’s. Then I want you to tell me about all those men coming all over you.”
Draco slumped. “Somehow I knew you were going to say that. This really isn’t going to end, is it?”
“Not until it’s all out.”
“Give me a quill, why don’t you. We could write it down so we could share it with the world.”
“Does that have anything to do with wanting everyone to see you get fucked in the men’s?”
Draco shrugged. “Maybe all this sharing is just your form of exhibitionism.”
“I guess that’s true. It’s been pretty hot.”
“We could post it to the internet,” Draco said brightly.
Harry took off his shirt. “Do you need more Veritaserum?”
Apparently distracted by Harry’s chest, Draco said, “No.”
Then Harry started taking off his jeans. “Are you going to tell me those fantasies?”
After Harry had pulled his jeans and pants all the way off, Draco looked up. “If you really want me to.”
“I want you to,” said Harry.
“Oh goody.” Draco frowned. “Do I get the chair?”
“Okay.” Harry went and got on the bed, while Draco arranged himself in the chair. He put his legs on the bed, leisurely-like, looking even more like a lord than he had when he’d been on the bed. Harry just watched him. When Draco finally seemed to have arranged himself, and turned cool grey eyes back to him, Harry asked, “What about the men’s room?”
“It’s filthy,” Draco said succinctly. “Here, have some oil.” He tossed the little bottle on the bed.
Harry coated his hands. “What else?”
“Oh, we’re in a bar,” Draco said carelessly. “I’d be teasing you, making you so hot. Fondle your balls, Harry. No, I’m not so cruel as to make you finger yourself all night, not like some people. Anyway, you’re telling me to stop, but I won’t; I’m impossible. Irresistible. You can’t get over what a slut I am; I’m trying to feel you up right in the bar.”
“You really are such a slut,” said Harry. “A dirty little whore.”
Draco froze for a moment, then relaxed. “When did your Veritaserum go off?”
“It must have just done. I haven’t had as much as you. Yours isn’t?”
Draco shook his head the slightest fraction. “I couldn’t do this, without it.”
“Pity,” said Harry. “Keep going.”
“Harry . . .”
“You’re such a fucking slut, Draco, feeling me up in the bar like that.”
“Right.” Draco swallowed. “So, acting like you’re not going to give me anything, I flirt with the other boys at the bar. Just to make you notice,” he adds quickly.
“When really it’s because you’re such a little whore,” said Harry. “You’ll put out for anyone who looks your way; you just want to get that pussy so full of spunk.” Draco was frowning slightly, his eyes half-lidded. “Is that alright to say?”
“I want you to say it,” said Draco. “It’s not true.”
“I know.” Harry’s voice was gentle. “Don’t you think I know that? It’s okay.” Draco just looked so uncertain. “I love you too, you know.”
“I know,” said Draco. He took a deep breath. “Thank you.”
“We can stop,” said Harry.
“Touch your cock,” Draco said instead. Harry touched his cock, and Draco went on. “I keep flirting with these other men, and finally, you grab my wrist, and drag me to the men’s.”
“You’re mine.” Harry’s hand, slick and greasy, slid up his cock.
“Yes, because in this fantasy, I’m playing your fucktoy, and you don’t like other people touching your things, or so you say, once you get the men’s cleared out. Or maybe you don’t clear it. You just take me inside a filthy stall. Or maybe no one’s there, and you’ve got me on my knees in that horribly dirty place.”
“Just like you deserve.”
“Put a finger inside yourself, Harry,” said Draco, idly.
Harry left off stroking his cock to do what Draco said, taking it slow, stroking the tight ring with his finger tip before pressing deeper. He wanted this to last, because he could already tell Draco was going to make it good.
“In this fantasy, you’d tell me what a whore I was,” Draco said. “You’d tell me if all I wanted was cock down my throat, you could give it to me. You tell me if I want to lick come off pricks, I’m going to do it off yours. Then you open up your jeans and put that big thing in my face.”
“Yes,” hissed Harry, and pushed his finger all the way in.
“You tell me how much I love it.” Draco’s eyes were hot and bright, but the rest of him seemed very calm and still. This was a test of courage. “You tell me how I’m such a fucking whore, and you can hear me slurping and sucking like I’m having the time of my life, which-it might be very close to that, if I could bear it. I’d be so hard, but not touching myself, just to prove to you how much I love your enormous prick; I love it down my throat, I love trying to breathe with it, I love swallowing around it, choking on it. God, Harry. I do love gagging on your cock.”
Harry arched, pushing his finger in.
“You can put another one in,” Draco said. “And you’d tell me I have to swallow every drop of your come. You’d tell me how if any gets on the floor-that filthy, disgusting floor, I’m going to have to lick it up. And that thought . . . I’m so excited, I’m like a mindless . . . I want to be like a mindless slut that can’t think about anything but drinking all your come, and how I might have to lick it off the floor . . .”
Harry had two fingers inside of him now, and he saw what Draco meant about torture. He desperately wanted to touch his cock. He was so full, and aching with hardness. “What happens next?” he said roughly.
“You come in my mouth,” said Draco. “But sometimes it’s different. Sometimes, you pull out and come on my face, and I love it so much; I nee-want it desperately, but some gets on the floor. And then I have to figure out whether I actually want to lick . . .”
“Other times?” Harry said.
Draco seemed riveted to the long, slick movement of Harry’s fingers moving in and out. He swallowed. “Other times, someone walks in. We’re in a stall, and he hears the filthy things you’re saying to me. He goes out, and brings his friends in, so they’re all listening to you telling me what a filthy whore I am, and they can hear me slurping and moaning around your cock. They remember me because I acted so slutty with all of them, and now they know who I belong to.”
“Please,” said Harry. “Please. I need to touch my cock.”
“Not yet,” said Draco, probably just to torture him because Harry had done the same thing. “Put another finger in. And then there’s the times when you don’t come at all,” he went on.
“What?” said Harry, distracted by the slow process of easing another finger in.
“You bend me over one the of the sinks.” Draco was still naked, and his hand came down at last to his hard prick. “Or maybe over one of the dirty toilets. And you fuck me, hard.”
“Reminding you who you belong to.”
“Yes,” said Draco, holding to the base of his cock. “But sometimes that bloke comes in, while you’re fucking me. And you let this bloke know about the way I moan just like a whore.”
“He could hear you doing it.”
“Yes, but he doesn’t know how much it annoys you. He’s a perfect stranger, you see.”
“I see,” said Harry. “Draco, I want-”
“You can touch your cock,” said Draco. “You’re fucking me raw in that toilet right now; you may need to touch it.”
“Fuck.” Harry wrapped his hand around his cock, pretending he was fucking Draco in that toilet right now, with the stranger just coming in, and Harry telling the stranger that Draco moaned like a bitch in heat.
“And then you ask that stranger if he wants to shut me up,” said Draco.
“He’d say yes,” said Harry, pumping his cock now, his fingers inside him. “Who wouldn’t want to stuff those pretty lips full of big thick cock? He’d take one look at your mouth and know it was made for fucking. He’d look at that throat and just want to fill it up with his prick.”
“You’d let him.”
“In this fantasy, I’m letting him.”
“Harry,” Draco whispered. “I want to fuck you.”
“Fuck me,” Harry said.
Slowly, Draco stood, then got on the bed. Harry pulled his fingers free with a release of breath. Draco gripped his thighs, positioning Harry’s legs so the knees were bent; he was open wide. Then Draco pushed inside him, and Harry let go of another breath. Draco leaned in to Harry’s ear. “Tell me how you’d watch him fuck my mouth.”
Harry couldn’t believe that Draco expected him to think right now. “I’d watch him fuck your mouth,” he said obediently.
Draco pulled back slowly, then came in again, one hand still pushing Harry’s thigh below the knee. “Tell me how you’d fuck me from behind, all the while telling him what a slut I am, that I’ll just take anything anyone will put in me; I’ll take any cock.”
“You’ll take any cock,” said Harry, arching helplessly.
Draco’s other hand dragged long and hot down Harry’s chest as he thrust again. “Tell him I’m just a fuck toy, and slutty little fuck who likes to get used down and dirty, who needs to learn his place from time to time.” He leaned in again. “Tell him he can bring his friends.”
“He can bring his friends,” whispered Harry.
Draco shuddered, thrusting in again. “He’d come down my throat. Then he’d leave, and get his friends.”
“I’d tell you what a whore you are.” Harry was panting. “I’d tell you you’re such a whore, letting your throat get fucked like that. By a total stranger. And you’d tell me that you were, that you love it; you love getting fucked on your knees on that dirty floor.”
Groaning, Draco pushed in harder. “I love the thought of that. And the rest of the men come in the door, and see me there. They know I’m just your toy. Just something you own. And if you’re feeling generous-”
“I’m going to let them play.” Harry arched, dragging Draco in deeper. “I’m going to tell you to open up your mouth for whatever gets put in front of your face, and you’ll be sucking on another cock.”
“They’re all going to be talking about what a dirty whore I am.” Draco’s breath was catching.
This was better than doing it, Harry thought. Doing it, there would be so many complications: safety, shame, jealousy, the ugliness of it, the danger of strangers. But speaking of it-this was something they would do again, Harry thought. Again and again.
And maybe even, if they found someone they trusted . . . they could cross that bridge when they came to it. In the meantime, there was always Polyjuice . . .
“Yes,” said Harry. “They’re going to be impressed that you’re such a willing cocksucker. At the way you just swallow all of them down like you can never have enough pricks leaking down your throat, like the only thing that could ever feed you is more come. They’re going to think you’re such a nasty, dirty cunt.”
“God,” said Draco. His hips were snapping hard now. He wrapped a hand around Harry’s cock.
Harry arched again. “Yes. And when I’m through with your arse, another prick is going to come and fill up that nasty, greedy hole. You’ll just suck that cock in, won’t you, with that tight little fuck hole. Whoever’s cock it is.”
“Harry.” The pressure Draco was putting on Harry’s thigh was bending him almost in half.
“You’re going to be so dirty and tired and full of spunk when it’s all over,” Harry said. “So well used. Just a dirty, nasty thing.”
“Harry,” Draco said. “Harry.”
“Tell me I can come,” said Harry.
“Come. Oh God, please come. Come, Harry, I-”
Harry came, and Draco came after him, pumping hard, their bodies jerking. Draco made the most animal sounds when he did that, and never admitted to it afterwards.
The both shuddered against each other. Draco groaned, dragging himself up Harry’s body. Harry put his aching legs down. Draco hid his face in Harry’s shoulder.
At last, Harry put his hand in Draco’s hair. “That was bloody spectacular.”
“You don’t . . .” Draco’s fingers traced patterns on Harry’s chest, patterns of doubt in his voice.
“Spectacular,” said Harry.
“I think it’s awful,” said Draco.
“Well.” Harry huffed a tired laugh. “That was what I said in the beginning. There’s nothing wrong with having an imagination, Draco.”
“You know, sex scenes don’t last this long in real life.”
Harry glanced at the window over Draco’s shoulder. It looked like almost dawn. He brought his eyes back to Draco. “They do in porn.”
“Foreplay doesn’t last that long in porn.” Draco frowned against his chest.
“What, we have to be realistic now?” Harry smirked.
Draco pulled up to look at him. Messy blond hair brushed his eyebrows; he still wore a slight frown. “No,” he said slowly. “I don’t suppose we do.” He glanced down at his hand on Harry’s chest. “Those things would be very unsafe in real life.” He grimaced. “Not to mention unhygienic.”
“We don’t have to do them,” said Harry.
Slowly, Draco began to smirk. “You mean they don’t have to bear the light of day?”
Morning sunlight streamed through the window. Harry smiled too. “Not unless we want them to.”
Draco looked at him thoughtfully. “I really did marry the best man.” He settled against Harry again. “Goddamn Veritaserum.”