Birthday!gift: Bent and Broken
Title: Bent and Broken
Author: enchanted_jae
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC17
Warning(s): Explicit sex, creature!fic (Characters engaged in sexual activity are of age)
Word count: 1830
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This drabble/fic was written for fun, not for profit.
Author's note: Written as a birthday gift for ldydark1, who gave the prompt of hurt/comfort, veela!genre.
Summary: Harry's rustic peace is interrupted by a surprise visitor.
Harry was at home relaxing in front of the telly. Desperate to escape constant publicity and public scrutiny after the war, he had purchased a modest home in the English countryside. Since then, relaxing at home had become his favorite activity. He had a dog for companionship, and he liked to putter around in his garden to stay busy. Ron and Hermione came to visit a few times each month, but other than that he led a quiet, solitary life. On the occasions when he grew tired of wanking, Harry would visit one of the gay clubs in Muggle London and pull some random bloke for a one-off.
As Harry chuckled over the program he was watching, Max began to bark outside. He ignored the noise until he heard Max growl in a menacing manner. Rising swiftly to his feet, Harry grabbed his wand and headed out the door. Max was standing stiffly, hair along his back raised while he glowered and growled at the stone wall that lined one side of the garden. The fact that Max was bristling at something Harry couldn't see caused the hair on the back of his own neck to rise. Unsure what could be getting such a reaction from the dog, Harry impulsively pointed his wand in that direction and yelled, "Finite Incantatum!"
He didn't know what he had expected, but it certainly wasn't a trembling, frightened Draco Malfoy--a winged and half-naked Draco Malfoy. "Malfoy?!" Harry sputtered. "What are you doing here?"
"Just kill me and be done with it, Potter," Malfoy spat with some of his customary bravado before adding in a dull voice, "You'll be doing me a favor."
~*~
Of course, Harry's Gryffindor nature had taken over, and he had helped Malfoy into the house, listening to the bane of his teenage years complain every step of the way. It had surprised him to learn that Malfoy had crashed in his garden quite by accident. He had then cast a Disillusionment charm on himself in an effort to stay hidden. Harry wasn't sure what to believe, but he did know that his former rival was indeed injured and in need of help. Once he'd determined Malfoy had a broken wing, Harry had Floo called Hermione for some advice, then cast the proper healing charms before settling Malfoy as comfortably as possible into his own bed. Malfoy had to lie on his stomach so as not to jostle his injured wing further. He lapsed almost immediately into an exhausted slumber, leaving Harry no choice but to sleep on the sofa in the living room. He fell asleep with one arm dangling over the edge, fingers buried in Max's soft fur.
~*~
When morning arrived, Harry checked Malfoy's injured wing and found it to be nearly healed. His guest joined him at the small table in the kitchen for breakfast. Malfoy ate with gusto, until he paused to ask, "Why are you living out here in the middle of nothing, Potter?"
Harry set his cup of tea down and said, "I'll tell you my story if you tell me yours."
Malfoy frowned but eventually relented. "Very well, but you go first." When Harry had finished with the abbreviated version of his reasons for retreating to the countryside, Malfoy sat and stared at him for a long moment. "You shunned the fame?" he asked finally.
"Contrary to what you believed in school, I was never a glory hog," Harry responded with a grimace. "Now tell me about you," he prompted. "How did you sprout wings and then manage to break one?"
"Did you pay attention at all during Care of Magical Creatures?" Malfoy asked him. At Harry's shrug, he went on. "I'm a veela, or part veela that is. It would seem that a Malfoy ancestor married a witch whose blood wasn't as pure as he had thought." He paused for a sip of tea before resuming his tale. "The veela characteristics can skip three or four generations before manifesting again, and I was the lucky one." When it seemed he wouldn't continue, Harry prodded him.
"How did you break your wing?"
Malfoy uttered a humorless laugh. "I didn't break my wing, Potter. Another veela did." When Harry gaped at him, Malfoy shrugged his good shoulder and elaborated, "While homosexuality may be tolerated among wizarding folk, it is not tolerated among veelas."
"What are you saying?" Harry asked, almost breathlessly.
"I'm bent, Potter, and I can't exactly engage in sexual relations with a human male because they think I'm a freak due to my wings. I can't have sex with a veela male because they think I'm a freak, period."
"One of them attacked you because you're gay?!" Harry exclaimed.
"Yes and no," sighed Malfoy. "They tend to avoid me for the most part, but I was feeling rather more randy than usual last night, and I approached one of them, seeking a joining. Of them all, I had thought he'd be most likely to agree to a furtive coupling."
"What happened?"
"I thought wrong, Potter. When I realized my mistake, I took to the air to leave, but he came after me and pressed the attack."
Harry winced and took a bite of toast. Curiosity getting the better of him, he questioned, "Why didn't you have wings at school?"
Malfoy hesitated before replying, "Two reasons: one, hybrid veelas like me don't display veela characteristics until somewhere between the ages of eighteen and twenty, and two, our wings magically extend, but only under certain circumstances."
"Such as?"
"When flying, naturally," Malfoy replied, "and during sex."
Harry flushed. "Oh," he muttered lamely.
"Oh?" Malfoy echoed sharply.
"I...well I was wondering why human blokes wouldn't want to have sex with you, but I suppose the wings would be a turn off for some of them."
"Try all of them," Malfoy groused.
"I don't know about that," countered Harry, stirring more milk into his tea. "I think it would be sexy."
"Too bad you're not bent," Malfoy scowled. Harry merely smirked at him. Malfoy stared back before shaking his head with a weary chuckle. "Do you mean to tell me I've managed to crash land in the garden of the only bloke, human or veela, who might be enticed into having sex with me?"
"While I do find you tremendously enticing, Malfoy, I think we should wait until your wing is fully healed," Harry decided.
Malfoy's cup rattled onto his saucer. "Merlin save me from noble Gryffindors," he sneered. "My wing is fine and I don't need it during sex anyway."
The conversation was making Harry hard. "So you really want to shag?" he asked dubiously.
"I'm not a girl, Potter. I don't require sweet words and romance."
"Alright," Harry said slowly. "After breakfast, then?"
"Splendid," Malfoy agreed.
They stared at one another over the table for a few seconds before they both leaped to their feet and met in a fierce mating of lips and tongues. Harry broke the kiss long enough to gasp out, "Bedroom."
Malfoy shook his head. "Outside," he rasped. "My wingspan is too great for your cottage." They stumbled out the kitchen door with Malfoy tugging at Harry's shirt and Harry pulling at the pyjama pants he had loaned the veela. They managed to get undressed with only minimal damage to their clothing, and Harry got his first look at Malfoy with his wings fully extended. They were magnificent--he was magnificent.
"I hope you brought your wand, unless you're in the habit of keeping lube in the garden," Malfoy remarked, flapping his good wing while keeping the other one still.
Harry scrambled through his cast-off clothing and retrieved his wand. Malfoy turned away and found the wooden bench that Harry liked to sit on in the evenings. He bent over it and placed his hands on the seat. "This is the only safe position veelas can mate in," he commented over his shoulder. "Otherwise, you 'd take a beating from my wings."
Harry liked Malfoy's position, bent over as he was with his arse raised impatiently. Harry approached the veela and cast a lubricating charm with his wand. The thick liquid pooled in the palm of his left hand, and Harry smeared the fingers of his right hand in the substance. He rubbed Malfoy's pucker, feeling it spasm beneath this touch, then Harry inserted two fingers and worked to stretch the veela's passage. Malfoy was incredibly tight, and Harry groaned softly in eager anticipation of burying his cock in that snug hole.
Malfoy couldn't wait either. "Get on with it, Potter. I'm not going to break."
Harry gratefully abandoned the task of stretching Malfoy and slid his fingers from the veela's body before pushing his cock into Malfoy's receptive sheath instead.
"Yes, yes, yes," chanted Malfoy.
"Is this what you need?" Harry demanded gruffly, punctuating the question with a hard thrust.
"Yes!" Malfoy shouted hoarsely, his fingers scrabbling desperately on the hard wooden bench as Harry pounded into him in a flurry of strokes.
Harry clenched his teeth and gripped the veela's hips tightly, holding him in place to receive his powerful thrusts. Malfoy's voice was getting progressively louder until he came with a piercingly loud wail that caused Max to begin howling inside the house. Harry reacted to the clenching spasms around his cock by climaxing as well, and he filled Malfoy with his release even as the veela was painting the wooden bench with white stripes of his own. His wings had extended impossibly wide at the height of his pleasure before fluttering madly. As his body relaxed from the throes of orgasm, Malfoy's wings slowly drew in until they were tight to his sides. Harry felt cocooned in the feathers, and he couldn't resist reaching out to stroke one white wing. Malfoy allowed it for a moment, then he twitched his wing away from Harry's questing fingers. Harry took the hint and uncoupled them with a wistful sigh.
When Malfoy straightened, his wings folded and disappeared completely. He made a soft sound of relief and stretched. "I'll have a shower and be off," he announced. Almost as an afterthought, he tacked on, "Thank you for the healing spellwork and the brilliant shag."
Harry reached for his clothes and began getting dressed. "You're welcome to stay longer," he offered hesitantly.
"Tempting, but I've matters to attend to," responded Malfoy. "However, I'll keep you in mind for the next time I'm feeling randy." This was said with a hopeful glance in Harry's direction.
Harry was cheered by the prospect. "Of course," he grinned. "Feel free to drop in any time."
One Hunger
Story now has artwork: Dropping in
Author: enchanted_jae
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC17
Warning(s): Explicit sex, creature!fic (Characters engaged in sexual activity are of age)
Word count: 1830
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This drabble/fic was written for fun, not for profit.
Author's note: Written as a birthday gift for ldydark1, who gave the prompt of hurt/comfort, veela!genre.
Summary: Harry's rustic peace is interrupted by a surprise visitor.
Harry was at home relaxing in front of the telly. Desperate to escape constant publicity and public scrutiny after the war, he had purchased a modest home in the English countryside. Since then, relaxing at home had become his favorite activity. He had a dog for companionship, and he liked to putter around in his garden to stay busy. Ron and Hermione came to visit a few times each month, but other than that he led a quiet, solitary life. On the occasions when he grew tired of wanking, Harry would visit one of the gay clubs in Muggle London and pull some random bloke for a one-off.
As Harry chuckled over the program he was watching, Max began to bark outside. He ignored the noise until he heard Max growl in a menacing manner. Rising swiftly to his feet, Harry grabbed his wand and headed out the door. Max was standing stiffly, hair along his back raised while he glowered and growled at the stone wall that lined one side of the garden. The fact that Max was bristling at something Harry couldn't see caused the hair on the back of his own neck to rise. Unsure what could be getting such a reaction from the dog, Harry impulsively pointed his wand in that direction and yelled, "Finite Incantatum!"
He didn't know what he had expected, but it certainly wasn't a trembling, frightened Draco Malfoy--a winged and half-naked Draco Malfoy. "Malfoy?!" Harry sputtered. "What are you doing here?"
"Just kill me and be done with it, Potter," Malfoy spat with some of his customary bravado before adding in a dull voice, "You'll be doing me a favor."
~*~
Of course, Harry's Gryffindor nature had taken over, and he had helped Malfoy into the house, listening to the bane of his teenage years complain every step of the way. It had surprised him to learn that Malfoy had crashed in his garden quite by accident. He had then cast a Disillusionment charm on himself in an effort to stay hidden. Harry wasn't sure what to believe, but he did know that his former rival was indeed injured and in need of help. Once he'd determined Malfoy had a broken wing, Harry had Floo called Hermione for some advice, then cast the proper healing charms before settling Malfoy as comfortably as possible into his own bed. Malfoy had to lie on his stomach so as not to jostle his injured wing further. He lapsed almost immediately into an exhausted slumber, leaving Harry no choice but to sleep on the sofa in the living room. He fell asleep with one arm dangling over the edge, fingers buried in Max's soft fur.
~*~
When morning arrived, Harry checked Malfoy's injured wing and found it to be nearly healed. His guest joined him at the small table in the kitchen for breakfast. Malfoy ate with gusto, until he paused to ask, "Why are you living out here in the middle of nothing, Potter?"
Harry set his cup of tea down and said, "I'll tell you my story if you tell me yours."
Malfoy frowned but eventually relented. "Very well, but you go first." When Harry had finished with the abbreviated version of his reasons for retreating to the countryside, Malfoy sat and stared at him for a long moment. "You shunned the fame?" he asked finally.
"Contrary to what you believed in school, I was never a glory hog," Harry responded with a grimace. "Now tell me about you," he prompted. "How did you sprout wings and then manage to break one?"
"Did you pay attention at all during Care of Magical Creatures?" Malfoy asked him. At Harry's shrug, he went on. "I'm a veela, or part veela that is. It would seem that a Malfoy ancestor married a witch whose blood wasn't as pure as he had thought." He paused for a sip of tea before resuming his tale. "The veela characteristics can skip three or four generations before manifesting again, and I was the lucky one." When it seemed he wouldn't continue, Harry prodded him.
"How did you break your wing?"
Malfoy uttered a humorless laugh. "I didn't break my wing, Potter. Another veela did." When Harry gaped at him, Malfoy shrugged his good shoulder and elaborated, "While homosexuality may be tolerated among wizarding folk, it is not tolerated among veelas."
"What are you saying?" Harry asked, almost breathlessly.
"I'm bent, Potter, and I can't exactly engage in sexual relations with a human male because they think I'm a freak due to my wings. I can't have sex with a veela male because they think I'm a freak, period."
"One of them attacked you because you're gay?!" Harry exclaimed.
"Yes and no," sighed Malfoy. "They tend to avoid me for the most part, but I was feeling rather more randy than usual last night, and I approached one of them, seeking a joining. Of them all, I had thought he'd be most likely to agree to a furtive coupling."
"What happened?"
"I thought wrong, Potter. When I realized my mistake, I took to the air to leave, but he came after me and pressed the attack."
Harry winced and took a bite of toast. Curiosity getting the better of him, he questioned, "Why didn't you have wings at school?"
Malfoy hesitated before replying, "Two reasons: one, hybrid veelas like me don't display veela characteristics until somewhere between the ages of eighteen and twenty, and two, our wings magically extend, but only under certain circumstances."
"Such as?"
"When flying, naturally," Malfoy replied, "and during sex."
Harry flushed. "Oh," he muttered lamely.
"Oh?" Malfoy echoed sharply.
"I...well I was wondering why human blokes wouldn't want to have sex with you, but I suppose the wings would be a turn off for some of them."
"Try all of them," Malfoy groused.
"I don't know about that," countered Harry, stirring more milk into his tea. "I think it would be sexy."
"Too bad you're not bent," Malfoy scowled. Harry merely smirked at him. Malfoy stared back before shaking his head with a weary chuckle. "Do you mean to tell me I've managed to crash land in the garden of the only bloke, human or veela, who might be enticed into having sex with me?"
"While I do find you tremendously enticing, Malfoy, I think we should wait until your wing is fully healed," Harry decided.
Malfoy's cup rattled onto his saucer. "Merlin save me from noble Gryffindors," he sneered. "My wing is fine and I don't need it during sex anyway."
The conversation was making Harry hard. "So you really want to shag?" he asked dubiously.
"I'm not a girl, Potter. I don't require sweet words and romance."
"Alright," Harry said slowly. "After breakfast, then?"
"Splendid," Malfoy agreed.
They stared at one another over the table for a few seconds before they both leaped to their feet and met in a fierce mating of lips and tongues. Harry broke the kiss long enough to gasp out, "Bedroom."
Malfoy shook his head. "Outside," he rasped. "My wingspan is too great for your cottage." They stumbled out the kitchen door with Malfoy tugging at Harry's shirt and Harry pulling at the pyjama pants he had loaned the veela. They managed to get undressed with only minimal damage to their clothing, and Harry got his first look at Malfoy with his wings fully extended. They were magnificent--he was magnificent.
"I hope you brought your wand, unless you're in the habit of keeping lube in the garden," Malfoy remarked, flapping his good wing while keeping the other one still.
Harry scrambled through his cast-off clothing and retrieved his wand. Malfoy turned away and found the wooden bench that Harry liked to sit on in the evenings. He bent over it and placed his hands on the seat. "This is the only safe position veelas can mate in," he commented over his shoulder. "Otherwise, you 'd take a beating from my wings."
Harry liked Malfoy's position, bent over as he was with his arse raised impatiently. Harry approached the veela and cast a lubricating charm with his wand. The thick liquid pooled in the palm of his left hand, and Harry smeared the fingers of his right hand in the substance. He rubbed Malfoy's pucker, feeling it spasm beneath this touch, then Harry inserted two fingers and worked to stretch the veela's passage. Malfoy was incredibly tight, and Harry groaned softly in eager anticipation of burying his cock in that snug hole.
Malfoy couldn't wait either. "Get on with it, Potter. I'm not going to break."
Harry gratefully abandoned the task of stretching Malfoy and slid his fingers from the veela's body before pushing his cock into Malfoy's receptive sheath instead.
"Yes, yes, yes," chanted Malfoy.
"Is this what you need?" Harry demanded gruffly, punctuating the question with a hard thrust.
"Yes!" Malfoy shouted hoarsely, his fingers scrabbling desperately on the hard wooden bench as Harry pounded into him in a flurry of strokes.
Harry clenched his teeth and gripped the veela's hips tightly, holding him in place to receive his powerful thrusts. Malfoy's voice was getting progressively louder until he came with a piercingly loud wail that caused Max to begin howling inside the house. Harry reacted to the clenching spasms around his cock by climaxing as well, and he filled Malfoy with his release even as the veela was painting the wooden bench with white stripes of his own. His wings had extended impossibly wide at the height of his pleasure before fluttering madly. As his body relaxed from the throes of orgasm, Malfoy's wings slowly drew in until they were tight to his sides. Harry felt cocooned in the feathers, and he couldn't resist reaching out to stroke one white wing. Malfoy allowed it for a moment, then he twitched his wing away from Harry's questing fingers. Harry took the hint and uncoupled them with a wistful sigh.
When Malfoy straightened, his wings folded and disappeared completely. He made a soft sound of relief and stretched. "I'll have a shower and be off," he announced. Almost as an afterthought, he tacked on, "Thank you for the healing spellwork and the brilliant shag."
Harry reached for his clothes and began getting dressed. "You're welcome to stay longer," he offered hesitantly.
"Tempting, but I've matters to attend to," responded Malfoy. "However, I'll keep you in mind for the next time I'm feeling randy." This was said with a hopeful glance in Harry's direction.
Harry was cheered by the prospect. "Of course," he grinned. "Feel free to drop in any time."
One Hunger
Story now has artwork: Dropping in