Birthday!gift; AWDT; BBtP Challenge
Title: Assume the Position
Author: enchanted_jae
Pairing: Draco/Harry
Rating: NC17
Warning(s): Explicit sex, a hint of dub-con only not really (characters are of age)
Word count: 1020
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This drabble/fic was written for fun, not for profit. AUTHOR IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR UNDERAGE READERS. Mind the rating and the warnings.
Author's note: Written as a birthday gift for daftfear, who asked for top!Draco, Quidditch gear.
Also written for:
♥ awdt current prompt of That's what you get for leaving me in charge.
♥ bbtp_challenge on InsaneJournal
Summary: The owner of the Falmouth Falcons wants to discuss Harry's position on the team.
Harry was late getting to the dressing room after Falmouth's decisive victory over Puddlemere. Unlike the rest of his teammates, he'd had to run a gauntlet of adoring fans and the wizarding version of the paparazzi. Harry was anxious to strip off his sweaty Quidditch gear and hit the showers.
"Potter," came a silky-smooth voice from his left.
Harry paused and turned to see the owner of the Falcons lounging in the doorway of his office.
"A word with you, if I may?"
Harry's body tightened in reaction. The man was sex on legs, after all. He was also arrogant enough to know it. Harry cleared his throat before speaking. "I'd like to clean up first," he replied to the mild command.
"This will only take a moment, Potter. I used to play Quidditch, as you know, and I can assure you I won't be offended by a little perspiration."
Given no choice, Harry simply nodded and followed him into the office. The team's owner took a seat behind his desk. As he hadn't been invited to sit, Harry settled for standing in front of the desk. "Potter, I wish to discuss your position," the man said, leaning back and appraising Harry with cool eyes.
"My position, sir?"
"Yes."
"Unless you've found a more talented Seeker, I-" Harry began.
"I was referring to your current position in my office."
Harry bristled. "Excuse me?"
The man smirked at him. "Rather than seeing you hovering in front of my desk like a naughty school boy, I'd much rather see you bent over it like the naughty tart you are rumored to be."
"I beg your pardon!" Harry squawked in outrage.
"Come now, Potter. Stop playing the role of affronted virgin. We all know you take it up the arse from your boyfriend and I imagine you enjoy it."
"I enjoy it because he's my boyfriend," Harry gritted, "whereas you are-"
"Your owner," came the chilly response.
Harry clamped his mouth shut to avoid cursing the smug bastard.
"If you wish to retain your place on this team, I suggest you place your hands on my desk and assume the position."
"You can't be serious!" gasped Harry.
"On the contrary; I am quite serious." The owner rose from his chair and began to unbuckle his leather belt. "I won't tell you again, Potter." Calm. Cool. Menacing.
Harry shivered and turned without another word, bracing his hands flat on the massive mahogany desk. He felt the other man step close behind him, and then Harry's outer robe was flipped up to drape his lower back. Warm palms settled on his arse to squeeze and knead the firm flesh. "I do love a Quidditch-toned arse," purred the voice behind him.
Harry's cock responded to the physical stimulation by hardening in his trousers. His fervent hope that his inappropriate reaction would go unnoticed was dashed when a hand groped him roughly between his legs. Harry hissed and arched into it, teeth clenched against any verbal response. The hand deftly unbuttoned Harry's flies and his heavy Quidditch trousers were tugged down along with his underwear. There was a rustle of clothing from behind him, followed by the sound of slick flesh working flesh. Harry didn't have to turn around to know that his owner was oiling his cock. Dear Merlin, he was about to be buggered right here in this office.
Harry bit his lip when the other man's damp cock head prodded insistently against the tightly furled flesh of his hole. "I trust your boyfriend helped loosen you up properly before the game?" the man sneered. He didn't wait for an answer before he thrust.
"Son of a-" Harry gasped, hands grasping desperately at the edges of the desk as his unprepared hole was breached and stretched and filled. He'd had sex with Draco that morning, but that had been hours ago. Despite the near-painful intrusion, Harry's cock hadn't lost interest in the proceedings. Instead, it jutted up from its base of dark curls, throbbing and eager for some attention. Harry's current sexual partner seemed far too concerned with his own pleasure to care about Harry's needs. He tunneled all the way into Harry, pausing only for a beat before he withdrew almost completely and then thrust in again. And again...over and over, fucking Harry over the desk while holding Harry steady with hands hard upon his hips.
Harry tried to remain still beneath the onslaught, but soon enough he was pressing back into each stroke, groaning in the throes of the lust the man had engendered in him. "Touch me," he snarled, unable to release his death grip on the desk for fear of collapsing atop it.
A hand, smooth and hot, reached around and grabbed Harry's cock, tugging it roughly in rhythm with the hard, jabbing thrusts into his snug hole. Harry was long past caring if anyone heard him, and his mouth fell open while a torrent of senseless words and animal sounds tumbled past his lips. His climax seized him in an unrelenting grip, and Harry's forehead bowed low to touch the surface of the desk as he spattered it with his release. His body was still clenching and spasming when he felt the results of his lover's orgasm pulse, hot and wet, deep inside of him.
The owner's softening cock was pulled free of Harry with a moist pop, and Harry straightened with a wince. He turned around with a scowl. "Abuse of power, much?" he growled.
"That's what you get for leaving me in charge. Aside from that, I couldn't help myself," the other man smirked, waving a cleaning charm over himself before tucking his satisfied cock into his trousers once more. "Watching you ride that broom never fails to stir my blood."
Harry tugged his own clothing back into order and groused, "Next time, wait until we get home, Draco."
Author: enchanted_jae
Pairing: Draco/Harry
Rating: NC17
Warning(s): Explicit sex, a hint of dub-con only not really (characters are of age)
Word count: 1020
Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling, et al. This drabble/fic was written for fun, not for profit. AUTHOR IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR UNDERAGE READERS. Mind the rating and the warnings.
Author's note: Written as a birthday gift for daftfear, who asked for top!Draco, Quidditch gear.
Also written for:
♥ awdt current prompt of That's what you get for leaving me in charge.
♥ bbtp_challenge on InsaneJournal
Summary: The owner of the Falmouth Falcons wants to discuss Harry's position on the team.
Harry was late getting to the dressing room after Falmouth's decisive victory over Puddlemere. Unlike the rest of his teammates, he'd had to run a gauntlet of adoring fans and the wizarding version of the paparazzi. Harry was anxious to strip off his sweaty Quidditch gear and hit the showers.
"Potter," came a silky-smooth voice from his left.
Harry paused and turned to see the owner of the Falcons lounging in the doorway of his office.
"A word with you, if I may?"
Harry's body tightened in reaction. The man was sex on legs, after all. He was also arrogant enough to know it. Harry cleared his throat before speaking. "I'd like to clean up first," he replied to the mild command.
"This will only take a moment, Potter. I used to play Quidditch, as you know, and I can assure you I won't be offended by a little perspiration."
Given no choice, Harry simply nodded and followed him into the office. The team's owner took a seat behind his desk. As he hadn't been invited to sit, Harry settled for standing in front of the desk. "Potter, I wish to discuss your position," the man said, leaning back and appraising Harry with cool eyes.
"My position, sir?"
"Yes."
"Unless you've found a more talented Seeker, I-" Harry began.
"I was referring to your current position in my office."
Harry bristled. "Excuse me?"
The man smirked at him. "Rather than seeing you hovering in front of my desk like a naughty school boy, I'd much rather see you bent over it like the naughty tart you are rumored to be."
"I beg your pardon!" Harry squawked in outrage.
"Come now, Potter. Stop playing the role of affronted virgin. We all know you take it up the arse from your boyfriend and I imagine you enjoy it."
"I enjoy it because he's my boyfriend," Harry gritted, "whereas you are-"
"Your owner," came the chilly response.
Harry clamped his mouth shut to avoid cursing the smug bastard.
"If you wish to retain your place on this team, I suggest you place your hands on my desk and assume the position."
"You can't be serious!" gasped Harry.
"On the contrary; I am quite serious." The owner rose from his chair and began to unbuckle his leather belt. "I won't tell you again, Potter." Calm. Cool. Menacing.
Harry shivered and turned without another word, bracing his hands flat on the massive mahogany desk. He felt the other man step close behind him, and then Harry's outer robe was flipped up to drape his lower back. Warm palms settled on his arse to squeeze and knead the firm flesh. "I do love a Quidditch-toned arse," purred the voice behind him.
Harry's cock responded to the physical stimulation by hardening in his trousers. His fervent hope that his inappropriate reaction would go unnoticed was dashed when a hand groped him roughly between his legs. Harry hissed and arched into it, teeth clenched against any verbal response. The hand deftly unbuttoned Harry's flies and his heavy Quidditch trousers were tugged down along with his underwear. There was a rustle of clothing from behind him, followed by the sound of slick flesh working flesh. Harry didn't have to turn around to know that his owner was oiling his cock. Dear Merlin, he was about to be buggered right here in this office.
Harry bit his lip when the other man's damp cock head prodded insistently against the tightly furled flesh of his hole. "I trust your boyfriend helped loosen you up properly before the game?" the man sneered. He didn't wait for an answer before he thrust.
"Son of a-" Harry gasped, hands grasping desperately at the edges of the desk as his unprepared hole was breached and stretched and filled. He'd had sex with Draco that morning, but that had been hours ago. Despite the near-painful intrusion, Harry's cock hadn't lost interest in the proceedings. Instead, it jutted up from its base of dark curls, throbbing and eager for some attention. Harry's current sexual partner seemed far too concerned with his own pleasure to care about Harry's needs. He tunneled all the way into Harry, pausing only for a beat before he withdrew almost completely and then thrust in again. And again...over and over, fucking Harry over the desk while holding Harry steady with hands hard upon his hips.
Harry tried to remain still beneath the onslaught, but soon enough he was pressing back into each stroke, groaning in the throes of the lust the man had engendered in him. "Touch me," he snarled, unable to release his death grip on the desk for fear of collapsing atop it.
A hand, smooth and hot, reached around and grabbed Harry's cock, tugging it roughly in rhythm with the hard, jabbing thrusts into his snug hole. Harry was long past caring if anyone heard him, and his mouth fell open while a torrent of senseless words and animal sounds tumbled past his lips. His climax seized him in an unrelenting grip, and Harry's forehead bowed low to touch the surface of the desk as he spattered it with his release. His body was still clenching and spasming when he felt the results of his lover's orgasm pulse, hot and wet, deep inside of him.
The owner's softening cock was pulled free of Harry with a moist pop, and Harry straightened with a wince. He turned around with a scowl. "Abuse of power, much?" he growled.
"That's what you get for leaving me in charge. Aside from that, I couldn't help myself," the other man smirked, waving a cleaning charm over himself before tucking his satisfied cock into his trousers once more. "Watching you ride that broom never fails to stir my blood."
Harry tugged his own clothing back into order and groused, "Next time, wait until we get home, Draco."