FEST FIC: School Ties
Sorry about the delay in posting. We are posting two stories today. ♥
Title: School ties
Author: piglet76
Prompt: #168 by talekayler
Summary: Sometimes it’s good to be alone, but even better when someone finds you
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Warnings: Weird wanking, very slight hint of dub con, mild bondage.
Word Count: 3,250
Beta: Thanks to AJT1975 for the dirty ideas blue sky thinking and cello_of_doom for the once over.
A/N: Thanks to the mods for organising the fest and for putting up with my procrastination on this while R/L went tits up!
School ties
Harry flopped on to his bed and sighed contentedly. No-one around and nobody needs me. Just for a while, he was free. He rolled over and grabbed the latest ‘Quidditch Monthly’ off of his nightstand, and began to flick idly through the pages, looking for that article he’d started reading earlier, when one of the pictures caught his eye. Jan Kivilaakso, Finland’s new Seeker smiled confidently out of the pages at him. A tallish, slim, ice-blond player with soft, grey eyes, Harry stared down at the picture, who winked back at him. That hair… he imagined running his fingers through it, nuzzling his nose into it, running his hands over those toned abs… a pulse of heat throbbed through him, and he sank further into fantasy. How would Jan look naked, pale skin glistening, all of that edible body available to Harry’s hungry eyes, not just the glimpses of neck, arms and occasionally thighs that quidditch gear allowed?
Harry closed his eyes and licked his lips, wriggling slightly on the bed as his fingers drifted down towards the zip of his jeans. Was there time, he wondered? Just five minutes, for once, without being discovered? Some of his room-mates seemed only too happy to take care of themselves no matter who might be listening, but, over the summer, Harry had got too used to being alone to be so brazen. He was tempted, though, by his now straining erection and the sight of gorgeous Jan. In his mind, Jan was sitting, naked, astride him as he lay on the bed, Jan’s toned thighs and strong arms holding him firmly against the mattress, immobile.... Just as he was about to succumb and fumble with his zip, the door banged open and Neville wandered in. Harry nearly jumped off the bed, his fantasy quickly evaporating.
“Hi, Harry. What are you up to?”
“Yeah, hi! Nothing, you know… just reading!” Shit, shit, shit. He sat up and scrambled off the bed.
“I was wondering if you could help me with that Defence Against the Dark Arts essay?” Neville glanced over curiously, seemingly aware that he’d disturbed something. Harry’s heart sank, but he plastered on a smile.
“OK, Nev, tomorrow, though, yeah?”
“Cool, thanks, Harry.”
Neville disappeared into the showers but Harry didn’t feel like staying in the dorm. He wanted to finish what he’d so nearly started and couldn’t relax knowing that Nev would be back soon. Apart from that, he had recently discovered certain preferences that he really didn’t want discovered. He fumbled in his top drawer, found what he was looking for, and stuffing it in to his pocket, went downstairs to the common room.
Ron saw him coming and quickly pulled up a chair, beckoning Harry over. Groaning inwardly, he plonked himself down next to Ron, who leaned over eagerly.
“What do you think I should do?”
Harry sighed. “About what?” as if he didn’t know.
“Well, you know, me and Hermione -“
“Yes, Ron.” I know all about it. You never bloody well stop going on about it.
“Well, I don’t know how to tell… you know… does she really like me?” he whispered furtively.
Harry rolled his eyes. It wasn’t that he minded his friends getting together; in fact, he was happy that they were with each other. It meant that, at least he still got to spend some time with them both, rather than lose their friendship. But Ron’s need for advice and reassurance seemed to be constant these days, and it felt so demanding sometimes. He opened his mouth to respond, when Ginny appeared at his side.
“What do you think, Harry?” she asked, smiling flirtatiously and indicating her new dress.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, it’s OK. Nice.”
Her face fell. “Only nice?”
“Nice is good!” he backtracked as Ron smirked, and she huffed off to her friends in the opposite corner. Since their, in Harry’s opinion, mistaken kiss a couple of years ago, Ginny had been signalling her interest in him with increasing enthusiasm. He sighed again. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but nothing more was ever going to come of that. He hoped that he wouldn’t have to make it any more obvious.
Hermione arrived and pulled up the chair opposite them, shuffling it close to Ron.
“How are you two getting on with that potions essay? You know it needs to be done for tomorrow!”
As she and Ron began their predictable nag, flirt, snog routine, Harry got up and slipped away towards the staircase. He loved his friends, and having the almost constant company school provided was mostly wonderful. It was a strange contrast though, with all the time he’d been forced to spend alone while living at the Durselys’, and sometimes it all got too much. He ached for a space of his own, where he wasn’t needed by anyone and could do what he liked, when he wanted.
He managed to sneak out through the portrait hole and down the main stairs without being noticed; it was late now and most of the younger students had gone to bed. His skin prickled in frustration and he shifted uncomfortably in his constricting jeans. Despite the earlier interruptions, arousal still pumped through his veins. He turned down the first corridor he came to, wishing that his footsteps weren’t echoing so much, and checking that no-one was watching, tiptoed to the room at the far end. Heart pounding, he quickly opened the door and stepped inside the deserted classroom. Finally, he was alone. He closed the door softly with a sigh, and sank onto a chair, closing his eyes. Freedom.
***
Draco was aching all over. Not satisfied with putting them through hell on the pitch, their quidditch captain had taken to twice-weekly sessions in the gym, going on late into the evening. He yawned and stretched as he walked back towards the dungeon common room; the last straggler returning from the Slytherin team quidditch practice, in somewhat of a bad mood.
Suddenly, he heard muffled footsteps from down a side corridor. The footsteps were soft, and irregular in rhythm; it sounded like someone trying not to be heard! Whipping round, he caught a glimpse of familiar, scruffy, black hair at the far end of the corridor. Potter! He felt his pulse quicken. On a few occasions, when he had been close to Potter, he could feel a tingle of his magic, so powerful that, even now, he couldn’t always control it, and it sparked out of him like something alive, wild and unrestrained. Draco was unwilling to acknowledge it, even to himself, but it captivated him. It had been going on for longer than he could remember now, this stirring at the sight of Potter and initially the unwelcome reaction had disgusted Draco, but he had gradually come to tolerate it. The feeling gnawed away at his insides now, leaving him unsatisfied and frustrated.
What was Potter doing? All the other Gryffindors were safely ensconced in their tower, doing homework, or whatever other goody-goody activities they busied themselves with in the evenings. Draco was curious, and already a little aroused. He looked up and down the corridor; there was no-one else in sight. On a whim, he snuck off towards where he’d glimpsed Potter.
His footsteps sounded loud despite his best efforts to creep quietly. Potter, meanwhile, seemed to have disappeared. Suddenly, the click of a door handle just behind him sounded like a gunshot in the quiet, and his heart leapt as he ducked out of sight behind a suit of armour. His blood thundered in his ears as he crouched down, peering out carefully into the darkness of the corridor, breathing hard. The classroom door opened and Professor McGonagall exited, pausing on the threshold, before turning suddenly to go back inside. Damn! She must have forgotten something, and now who knew where bloody Potter had got to? Blinking, as the light streaming through the open doorway ruined his night vision, Draco wondered whether to make a run for it and risk a detention if he was caught out this late, or give up on the whole thing and sneak back to the common room as soon as possible. He was getting fed up with waiting, but the thought of finding Potter alone in the dark was rather exciting and, he decided, worth the risk. Potter was bloody good looking, and he hated to admit it, powerful too. It was a potent combination and despite his best efforts to ignore it, Draco was far from immune. His breath sounded loud in the quiet, as moments ticked by and the tension inside him slowly ratcheted up. The door banged open, making him jump again, as McGonagall returned carrying some books, and closed the door, before heading off in the opposite direction. Draco breathed a sigh of relief, and, as soon as she had rounded the corner, jogged lightly off towards where he’d last seen Potter.
There were only two more classrooms at this end of the passageway. Draco peered through the window in the door of the first. It was dark and deserted. He moved away and crept closer to the second door, heart thudding. Potter had to be in here! He pressed his face to the small window, peering into the darkened classroom. Nothing. He was about to turn and leave when a flash of movement from the corner caught his eye. Potter! What the hell was he doing on his own in a dark, deserted classroom? Surely not studying? Draco took a closer look and caught his breath. Merlin!
Harry was seated on a chair with his trousers and shorts pushed down around his thighs. His eyes were closed and he was stroking his hard prick clasped between both his hands. His eyes were closed, his lips parted, a look of intent pleasure on his face.
Draco’s eyes widened and he drew in a sharp breath. What the fuck? He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this! When he’d got over his initial surprise, he noticed that Potter had something wrapped around his wrists - something red and gold. Fuck! It was a tie. Somehow, Potter had bound his own hands together with his school tie! He was totally absorbed in what he was doing, awkwardly stroking his restricted hands slowly up and down, his head tipped back obliviously. Another twinge of arousal shivered its determined way through him.
“You kinky bastard!” Draco muttered, partly horrified, partly fascinated. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the mesmerising scene in front of him. As he watched, Harry sucked in his lower lip and bit down slightly, lost in pleasure. Draco’s cock twitched and his lungs suddenly felt tight, as though they were too small for him to catch his breath. He appreciatively noted the firm line of Potter’s taught thighs, constrained by his trousers, muscles tensed as he started to strain upwards, his orgasm clearly approaching. Delectable though Potter was, half naked and wanking with abandon, Draco’s eyes kept being drawn to the bound wrists, the way Potter was straining to get his hands where he needed them, the way the fabric bit slightly into his golden skin. His own cock firming, Draco watched avidly as Potter’s hands sped up, pumping his swollen cock. As he caught sight of fluid leaking from the tip, glistening in the moonlight from the window, Draco groaned. His self-control suddenly snapped, and without thinking, he opened the door, and was in standing front of the other boy before he had a chance to stop himself.
“Want me to tie up you properly, Potter?” he demanded, more bravely than he felt, his voice loud in the quiet room.
Potter gasped, and jumped as his eyes flew open to see Draco Malfoy staring at him. He sat transfixed, stuttering, a tide of crimson washing up his neck and across his cheeks, as Draco grinned at him.
“No need to stop on my account.”
“Malfoy!” Potter finally managed. “What the fuck are you doing in here?” He was twisting and pulling surreptitiously at his bound hands, as though vainly hoping he could release himself before Draco noticed his predicament. Draco had noticed, and it was all he could do not to gape and drool and the sight. He tried to focus.
“I could ask you the same thing - although I think it’s perfectly clear what you’re doing in here!”
Draco stepped closer and leaned over toward Potter who flinched away, eyes downcast. Draco felt a surge of unexpected excitement stab through him at Harry’s obvious mortification. Surprising himself, he grabbed Potter’s wrists, without warning, and pulled his arms roughly over his head, forcing him to look up and return Draco’s gaze. The sight of powerful Potter subdued and under his control, even just for a second, catapulted Draco to new heights of arousal.
A moment later, the spell was broken, as Potter seemed to wake from his reverie and gasped “Get the fuck off me, Malfoy!” He kicked out ineffectually, legs still restrained by his trousers around his knees.
Draco dodged the feeble attempt, then dropped to his knees in front of Potter. He was very aware of the proximity of Potter’s beautiful red cock, inches from his face, and the thought of what it would be like to take it in his mouth and see Potter squirm, and beg, and plead flashed through him like a firework, all coloured sparks and heat.
“You don’t mean that!” he rasped, bending his head to run his tongue firmly along the underside of Potter’s cock, all the while holding his gaze.
“I said get off me, Malfoy!” But Potter’s voice hitched and he had stopped struggling. As Draco hovered over the tip, breath ghosting over him, Potter thrust gently against his lips and groaned softly.
Still with Potter’s wrists held captive, Draco stood up and leaned closer until his lips brushed against Potter’s. Finding him unresponsive to the kiss, Draco’s tongue followed as he teased softly, hoping that Potter would relent and yield. Seconds ticked by and Draco held his breath, lips still gently moving over Potter’s. How far could Draco push him? Lightheaded with lust and desperate for some kind of response, he snaked a hand down to grasp Potter’s cock, who gasped but remained still. The sound sent Draco dizzy. Determined to elicit a further reaction, he smeared his thumb across the bead of moisture gathered at the slit and fisted slowly. Once. Twice. Then Potter was pressing himself against Draco with surprising force, parting his lips hungrily, returning his kiss. He struggled clumsily to his feet, still restricted by the trousers round his thighs and threw himself against Draco, making him stumble backwards until a desk broke their fall. Potter landed heavily against him, knocking Draco’s breath away, and stared at him, eyes blazing, mere inches from his own.
“You want to do this? Then fucking do it!”
Heart racing, Draco grabbed Potter and shifted their positions, twisting aside to push Potter forward over the desk. His breath harsh, his fingers dug into the warm flesh of Potter’s exposed buttocks. Palms slippery with sweat, Draco fumbled to grasp Potter’s hips and yanked himself greedily forward, thrusting his denim covered groin against the firm delicious arse and groaned. He couldn’t quite believe this was happening.
“Come on, Malfoy, what are you waiting for?” Potter suddenly spat out over his shoulder. Draco threw his full weight on to Potter, pinning him to the desk.
“To hear you beg, Potter!” he whispered throatily. Blood pounding in his ears, he slid a hand between Potter and the desk and had to suppress a shiver as he found Potter’s hard cock and grabbed it firmly. He fisted once and then stopped, holding his breath. Potter leaned his head forward onto the desk and groaned softly. Draco couldn't hear that noise enough and the shiver he'd been trying to control erupted along his spine, as he growled and stroked Potter’s cock.
He licked a finger and grabbed roughly at Potter’s arse, sliding it between his cheeks before jabbing inside him, making Potter thrash and gasp. Draco couldn't quite tell whether it was pain or pleasure, but in the absence of a direct complaint he ignored it and finger-fucked Potter mercilessly as he slicked himself with saliva. His entire body was burning with desire for Potter, to take and possess him; helpless to deny himself what he’d lusted after for so long. As he replaced fingers with cock and thrust into Potter, his skin tingled icily as magic washed over him like a caress. Potter yelped and squirmed before pushing his arse back even harder against Draco, who pinned him firmly to the desk. Draco gasped and fucked him harder, the legs of the desk squealing suddenly against the polished floor as the weight of his thrusts forced it to move.
His vision swimming, Draco grabbed at Potter, desperate to be deeper inside him. When Potter gasped “I want you to come inside me!” it pushed him over the edge, and wave after wave of sweet release shuddered through him. Potter cried out as he came and Draco was buffeted by new waves of tingling magic, flowing around and through him.
Harry's blood pounded in his ears as the aftershocks of an unbelievably satisfying orgasm juddered through his body. Draco's weight was pinning him against the hard desk, but he really couldn't care less. His soul was soaring, euphoric. He shivered languidly as the weight of Draco's head shifted away from where it nestled between his damp shoulder blades, to be followed swiftly by delicious tickling at the back of his neck as Draco nuzzled against him. His arms were still stretched out across the desk in front of him and he flexed them experimentally. He’d started off the evening desperate for some space, and would have felt embarrassed about being discovered by Draco if he hadn’t been still buzzing, and as for shagging him? As it was, however, he was just too blissed out to care. He shivered as a tongue ran across his sensitive nape. Was this what it was going to take to feel free from everything? Harry sighed and smiled to himself. As solutions went, he supposed it could be worse.
As Draco shifted away, Harry was finally able to straighten himself up. Their exertions had loosened the tie which he slipped off into a pocket.
"What were you doing here, anyway, Malfoy?" he asked suddenly, as he did up his jeans.
"I was on my way back from quidditch practise. I saw you come down here alone and I suppose I was curious about what you were doing." Draco swallowed hard. "I've got another practise on Friday." Harry felt him move in closer behind him. He didn't reply. Draco stepped even closer behind Harry, trapping his arms as he took him in his own. A spike of heat ran up Harry’s spine at the sudden reminder of how it felt to be helpless as Draco took what he wanted - and right now that seemed to be Harry. He sighed as Draco licked his earlobe and whispered "I'll be here afterwards. Same time. Bring your tie." His words sent an electric chill straight to Harry’s cock and he shivered.
As Draco released him, Harry swung round on the spot and, grabbing the back of Draco’s head, pressed a quick, hard kiss to his lips. Heat shot through him again as Draco’s eyes widened in surprise.
"Don’t keep me waiting!" he said, as he threw open the door and left without a backward glance, grinning to himself.
**************
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Title: School ties
Author: piglet76
Prompt: #168 by talekayler
Summary: Sometimes it’s good to be alone, but even better when someone finds you
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Warnings: Weird wanking, very slight hint of dub con, mild bondage.
Word Count: 3,250
Beta: Thanks to AJT1975 for the dirty ideas blue sky thinking and cello_of_doom for the once over.
A/N: Thanks to the mods for organising the fest and for putting up with my procrastination on this while R/L went tits up!
School ties
Harry flopped on to his bed and sighed contentedly. No-one around and nobody needs me. Just for a while, he was free. He rolled over and grabbed the latest ‘Quidditch Monthly’ off of his nightstand, and began to flick idly through the pages, looking for that article he’d started reading earlier, when one of the pictures caught his eye. Jan Kivilaakso, Finland’s new Seeker smiled confidently out of the pages at him. A tallish, slim, ice-blond player with soft, grey eyes, Harry stared down at the picture, who winked back at him. That hair… he imagined running his fingers through it, nuzzling his nose into it, running his hands over those toned abs… a pulse of heat throbbed through him, and he sank further into fantasy. How would Jan look naked, pale skin glistening, all of that edible body available to Harry’s hungry eyes, not just the glimpses of neck, arms and occasionally thighs that quidditch gear allowed?
Harry closed his eyes and licked his lips, wriggling slightly on the bed as his fingers drifted down towards the zip of his jeans. Was there time, he wondered? Just five minutes, for once, without being discovered? Some of his room-mates seemed only too happy to take care of themselves no matter who might be listening, but, over the summer, Harry had got too used to being alone to be so brazen. He was tempted, though, by his now straining erection and the sight of gorgeous Jan. In his mind, Jan was sitting, naked, astride him as he lay on the bed, Jan’s toned thighs and strong arms holding him firmly against the mattress, immobile.... Just as he was about to succumb and fumble with his zip, the door banged open and Neville wandered in. Harry nearly jumped off the bed, his fantasy quickly evaporating.
“Hi, Harry. What are you up to?”
“Yeah, hi! Nothing, you know… just reading!” Shit, shit, shit. He sat up and scrambled off the bed.
“I was wondering if you could help me with that Defence Against the Dark Arts essay?” Neville glanced over curiously, seemingly aware that he’d disturbed something. Harry’s heart sank, but he plastered on a smile.
“OK, Nev, tomorrow, though, yeah?”
“Cool, thanks, Harry.”
Neville disappeared into the showers but Harry didn’t feel like staying in the dorm. He wanted to finish what he’d so nearly started and couldn’t relax knowing that Nev would be back soon. Apart from that, he had recently discovered certain preferences that he really didn’t want discovered. He fumbled in his top drawer, found what he was looking for, and stuffing it in to his pocket, went downstairs to the common room.
Ron saw him coming and quickly pulled up a chair, beckoning Harry over. Groaning inwardly, he plonked himself down next to Ron, who leaned over eagerly.
“What do you think I should do?”
Harry sighed. “About what?” as if he didn’t know.
“Well, you know, me and Hermione -“
“Yes, Ron.” I know all about it. You never bloody well stop going on about it.
“Well, I don’t know how to tell… you know… does she really like me?” he whispered furtively.
Harry rolled his eyes. It wasn’t that he minded his friends getting together; in fact, he was happy that they were with each other. It meant that, at least he still got to spend some time with them both, rather than lose their friendship. But Ron’s need for advice and reassurance seemed to be constant these days, and it felt so demanding sometimes. He opened his mouth to respond, when Ginny appeared at his side.
“What do you think, Harry?” she asked, smiling flirtatiously and indicating her new dress.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, it’s OK. Nice.”
Her face fell. “Only nice?”
“Nice is good!” he backtracked as Ron smirked, and she huffed off to her friends in the opposite corner. Since their, in Harry’s opinion, mistaken kiss a couple of years ago, Ginny had been signalling her interest in him with increasing enthusiasm. He sighed again. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but nothing more was ever going to come of that. He hoped that he wouldn’t have to make it any more obvious.
Hermione arrived and pulled up the chair opposite them, shuffling it close to Ron.
“How are you two getting on with that potions essay? You know it needs to be done for tomorrow!”
As she and Ron began their predictable nag, flirt, snog routine, Harry got up and slipped away towards the staircase. He loved his friends, and having the almost constant company school provided was mostly wonderful. It was a strange contrast though, with all the time he’d been forced to spend alone while living at the Durselys’, and sometimes it all got too much. He ached for a space of his own, where he wasn’t needed by anyone and could do what he liked, when he wanted.
He managed to sneak out through the portrait hole and down the main stairs without being noticed; it was late now and most of the younger students had gone to bed. His skin prickled in frustration and he shifted uncomfortably in his constricting jeans. Despite the earlier interruptions, arousal still pumped through his veins. He turned down the first corridor he came to, wishing that his footsteps weren’t echoing so much, and checking that no-one was watching, tiptoed to the room at the far end. Heart pounding, he quickly opened the door and stepped inside the deserted classroom. Finally, he was alone. He closed the door softly with a sigh, and sank onto a chair, closing his eyes. Freedom.
***
Draco was aching all over. Not satisfied with putting them through hell on the pitch, their quidditch captain had taken to twice-weekly sessions in the gym, going on late into the evening. He yawned and stretched as he walked back towards the dungeon common room; the last straggler returning from the Slytherin team quidditch practice, in somewhat of a bad mood.
Suddenly, he heard muffled footsteps from down a side corridor. The footsteps were soft, and irregular in rhythm; it sounded like someone trying not to be heard! Whipping round, he caught a glimpse of familiar, scruffy, black hair at the far end of the corridor. Potter! He felt his pulse quicken. On a few occasions, when he had been close to Potter, he could feel a tingle of his magic, so powerful that, even now, he couldn’t always control it, and it sparked out of him like something alive, wild and unrestrained. Draco was unwilling to acknowledge it, even to himself, but it captivated him. It had been going on for longer than he could remember now, this stirring at the sight of Potter and initially the unwelcome reaction had disgusted Draco, but he had gradually come to tolerate it. The feeling gnawed away at his insides now, leaving him unsatisfied and frustrated.
What was Potter doing? All the other Gryffindors were safely ensconced in their tower, doing homework, or whatever other goody-goody activities they busied themselves with in the evenings. Draco was curious, and already a little aroused. He looked up and down the corridor; there was no-one else in sight. On a whim, he snuck off towards where he’d glimpsed Potter.
His footsteps sounded loud despite his best efforts to creep quietly. Potter, meanwhile, seemed to have disappeared. Suddenly, the click of a door handle just behind him sounded like a gunshot in the quiet, and his heart leapt as he ducked out of sight behind a suit of armour. His blood thundered in his ears as he crouched down, peering out carefully into the darkness of the corridor, breathing hard. The classroom door opened and Professor McGonagall exited, pausing on the threshold, before turning suddenly to go back inside. Damn! She must have forgotten something, and now who knew where bloody Potter had got to? Blinking, as the light streaming through the open doorway ruined his night vision, Draco wondered whether to make a run for it and risk a detention if he was caught out this late, or give up on the whole thing and sneak back to the common room as soon as possible. He was getting fed up with waiting, but the thought of finding Potter alone in the dark was rather exciting and, he decided, worth the risk. Potter was bloody good looking, and he hated to admit it, powerful too. It was a potent combination and despite his best efforts to ignore it, Draco was far from immune. His breath sounded loud in the quiet, as moments ticked by and the tension inside him slowly ratcheted up. The door banged open, making him jump again, as McGonagall returned carrying some books, and closed the door, before heading off in the opposite direction. Draco breathed a sigh of relief, and, as soon as she had rounded the corner, jogged lightly off towards where he’d last seen Potter.
There were only two more classrooms at this end of the passageway. Draco peered through the window in the door of the first. It was dark and deserted. He moved away and crept closer to the second door, heart thudding. Potter had to be in here! He pressed his face to the small window, peering into the darkened classroom. Nothing. He was about to turn and leave when a flash of movement from the corner caught his eye. Potter! What the hell was he doing on his own in a dark, deserted classroom? Surely not studying? Draco took a closer look and caught his breath. Merlin!
Harry was seated on a chair with his trousers and shorts pushed down around his thighs. His eyes were closed and he was stroking his hard prick clasped between both his hands. His eyes were closed, his lips parted, a look of intent pleasure on his face.
Draco’s eyes widened and he drew in a sharp breath. What the fuck? He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this! When he’d got over his initial surprise, he noticed that Potter had something wrapped around his wrists - something red and gold. Fuck! It was a tie. Somehow, Potter had bound his own hands together with his school tie! He was totally absorbed in what he was doing, awkwardly stroking his restricted hands slowly up and down, his head tipped back obliviously. Another twinge of arousal shivered its determined way through him.
“You kinky bastard!” Draco muttered, partly horrified, partly fascinated. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the mesmerising scene in front of him. As he watched, Harry sucked in his lower lip and bit down slightly, lost in pleasure. Draco’s cock twitched and his lungs suddenly felt tight, as though they were too small for him to catch his breath. He appreciatively noted the firm line of Potter’s taught thighs, constrained by his trousers, muscles tensed as he started to strain upwards, his orgasm clearly approaching. Delectable though Potter was, half naked and wanking with abandon, Draco’s eyes kept being drawn to the bound wrists, the way Potter was straining to get his hands where he needed them, the way the fabric bit slightly into his golden skin. His own cock firming, Draco watched avidly as Potter’s hands sped up, pumping his swollen cock. As he caught sight of fluid leaking from the tip, glistening in the moonlight from the window, Draco groaned. His self-control suddenly snapped, and without thinking, he opened the door, and was in standing front of the other boy before he had a chance to stop himself.
“Want me to tie up you properly, Potter?” he demanded, more bravely than he felt, his voice loud in the quiet room.
Potter gasped, and jumped as his eyes flew open to see Draco Malfoy staring at him. He sat transfixed, stuttering, a tide of crimson washing up his neck and across his cheeks, as Draco grinned at him.
“No need to stop on my account.”
“Malfoy!” Potter finally managed. “What the fuck are you doing in here?” He was twisting and pulling surreptitiously at his bound hands, as though vainly hoping he could release himself before Draco noticed his predicament. Draco had noticed, and it was all he could do not to gape and drool and the sight. He tried to focus.
“I could ask you the same thing - although I think it’s perfectly clear what you’re doing in here!”
Draco stepped closer and leaned over toward Potter who flinched away, eyes downcast. Draco felt a surge of unexpected excitement stab through him at Harry’s obvious mortification. Surprising himself, he grabbed Potter’s wrists, without warning, and pulled his arms roughly over his head, forcing him to look up and return Draco’s gaze. The sight of powerful Potter subdued and under his control, even just for a second, catapulted Draco to new heights of arousal.
A moment later, the spell was broken, as Potter seemed to wake from his reverie and gasped “Get the fuck off me, Malfoy!” He kicked out ineffectually, legs still restrained by his trousers around his knees.
Draco dodged the feeble attempt, then dropped to his knees in front of Potter. He was very aware of the proximity of Potter’s beautiful red cock, inches from his face, and the thought of what it would be like to take it in his mouth and see Potter squirm, and beg, and plead flashed through him like a firework, all coloured sparks and heat.
“You don’t mean that!” he rasped, bending his head to run his tongue firmly along the underside of Potter’s cock, all the while holding his gaze.
“I said get off me, Malfoy!” But Potter’s voice hitched and he had stopped struggling. As Draco hovered over the tip, breath ghosting over him, Potter thrust gently against his lips and groaned softly.
Still with Potter’s wrists held captive, Draco stood up and leaned closer until his lips brushed against Potter’s. Finding him unresponsive to the kiss, Draco’s tongue followed as he teased softly, hoping that Potter would relent and yield. Seconds ticked by and Draco held his breath, lips still gently moving over Potter’s. How far could Draco push him? Lightheaded with lust and desperate for some kind of response, he snaked a hand down to grasp Potter’s cock, who gasped but remained still. The sound sent Draco dizzy. Determined to elicit a further reaction, he smeared his thumb across the bead of moisture gathered at the slit and fisted slowly. Once. Twice. Then Potter was pressing himself against Draco with surprising force, parting his lips hungrily, returning his kiss. He struggled clumsily to his feet, still restricted by the trousers round his thighs and threw himself against Draco, making him stumble backwards until a desk broke their fall. Potter landed heavily against him, knocking Draco’s breath away, and stared at him, eyes blazing, mere inches from his own.
“You want to do this? Then fucking do it!”
Heart racing, Draco grabbed Potter and shifted their positions, twisting aside to push Potter forward over the desk. His breath harsh, his fingers dug into the warm flesh of Potter’s exposed buttocks. Palms slippery with sweat, Draco fumbled to grasp Potter’s hips and yanked himself greedily forward, thrusting his denim covered groin against the firm delicious arse and groaned. He couldn’t quite believe this was happening.
“Come on, Malfoy, what are you waiting for?” Potter suddenly spat out over his shoulder. Draco threw his full weight on to Potter, pinning him to the desk.
“To hear you beg, Potter!” he whispered throatily. Blood pounding in his ears, he slid a hand between Potter and the desk and had to suppress a shiver as he found Potter’s hard cock and grabbed it firmly. He fisted once and then stopped, holding his breath. Potter leaned his head forward onto the desk and groaned softly. Draco couldn't hear that noise enough and the shiver he'd been trying to control erupted along his spine, as he growled and stroked Potter’s cock.
He licked a finger and grabbed roughly at Potter’s arse, sliding it between his cheeks before jabbing inside him, making Potter thrash and gasp. Draco couldn't quite tell whether it was pain or pleasure, but in the absence of a direct complaint he ignored it and finger-fucked Potter mercilessly as he slicked himself with saliva. His entire body was burning with desire for Potter, to take and possess him; helpless to deny himself what he’d lusted after for so long. As he replaced fingers with cock and thrust into Potter, his skin tingled icily as magic washed over him like a caress. Potter yelped and squirmed before pushing his arse back even harder against Draco, who pinned him firmly to the desk. Draco gasped and fucked him harder, the legs of the desk squealing suddenly against the polished floor as the weight of his thrusts forced it to move.
His vision swimming, Draco grabbed at Potter, desperate to be deeper inside him. When Potter gasped “I want you to come inside me!” it pushed him over the edge, and wave after wave of sweet release shuddered through him. Potter cried out as he came and Draco was buffeted by new waves of tingling magic, flowing around and through him.
Harry's blood pounded in his ears as the aftershocks of an unbelievably satisfying orgasm juddered through his body. Draco's weight was pinning him against the hard desk, but he really couldn't care less. His soul was soaring, euphoric. He shivered languidly as the weight of Draco's head shifted away from where it nestled between his damp shoulder blades, to be followed swiftly by delicious tickling at the back of his neck as Draco nuzzled against him. His arms were still stretched out across the desk in front of him and he flexed them experimentally. He’d started off the evening desperate for some space, and would have felt embarrassed about being discovered by Draco if he hadn’t been still buzzing, and as for shagging him? As it was, however, he was just too blissed out to care. He shivered as a tongue ran across his sensitive nape. Was this what it was going to take to feel free from everything? Harry sighed and smiled to himself. As solutions went, he supposed it could be worse.
As Draco shifted away, Harry was finally able to straighten himself up. Their exertions had loosened the tie which he slipped off into a pocket.
"What were you doing here, anyway, Malfoy?" he asked suddenly, as he did up his jeans.
"I was on my way back from quidditch practise. I saw you come down here alone and I suppose I was curious about what you were doing." Draco swallowed hard. "I've got another practise on Friday." Harry felt him move in closer behind him. He didn't reply. Draco stepped even closer behind Harry, trapping his arms as he took him in his own. A spike of heat ran up Harry’s spine at the sudden reminder of how it felt to be helpless as Draco took what he wanted - and right now that seemed to be Harry. He sighed as Draco licked his earlobe and whispered "I'll be here afterwards. Same time. Bring your tie." His words sent an electric chill straight to Harry’s cock and he shivered.
As Draco released him, Harry swung round on the spot and, grabbing the back of Draco’s head, pressed a quick, hard kiss to his lips. Heat shot through him again as Draco’s eyes widened in surprise.
"Don’t keep me waiting!" he said, as he threw open the door and left without a backward glance, grinning to himself.
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