Summary: Remus Lupin mistakenly gifts his friends with some aphrodisiac-laced chocolate. Harry’s the first victim.
Word Count: 2,800
Kinks: dirty talk, frottage, sex in a broom closet :D
Author’s Note: platformnine - I’ve tried my best to hit most of your buttons, and I hope you like it! Please forgive the quasi-crack-humor-PWPness of it all… I tried to go to the Department of UST and Backstory but the boys just really, really wanted to shag. :P A big thank you to my betas - f, r, t and c.
Remus Lupin loved three things: chocolate, making others happy and Christmas. Naturally, therefore, he’d reasoned that giving chocolate out at Christmas, which would make anyone happy, was the perfect solution to the annual gift-giving dilemma. He wrapped each chocolate log in gold paper and affixed a label indicating the intended recipient. Five logs for Remus’s friends and colleagues, plus one for himself (because he could hardly give away all the chocolate). It was a shame he couldn’t spend Christmas with Harry and the Weasleys, but the full moon was Christmas night and he would have to wait at home the night before for Snape to drop off the final dose of Wolfsbane (and Snape couldn’t be seen at Order headquarters, considering the likelihood Harry would kill him on sight).
It wasn’t all a loss, however, as Remus was less than enthusiastic about enduring the presence of the Malfoys, who, for some ungodly reason, Molly had agreed could spend the holidays with them. Molly had simply muttered something about “distant relatives,” “extreme poverty” and “poor dears” when Remus had asked why.
Avoiding Tonks’ apologetic looks provided its own deterrent, of course. They had briefly attempted a relationship the previous summer, but after a few awkward attempts at sex had called it quits. It had turned out they both rather preferred the same sex and that each lacked parts that the other desired. Though Tonks had always been willing to gain the necessary appendage, Remus, unfortunately, could not acquire a vagina. There had never been a more amicable parting of ways.
Remus put the finishing touches on the wrapping and sent a batch off to Grimmauld Place via Floo, plus one to Severus, via owl. He hoped the others would appreciate the gesture, and settled down to sleep, forgoing his own chocolate log. He would save it for later.
Meanwhile, at Honeydukes…
Wallace shut the register and saw the last customer out of the store – finally, they could head home and enjoy Christmas. All of a sudden, he heard Mark yell “shit!” at the top of his voice from the back of the store.
“What is it?” Wallace shouted back, worried. Mark generally wasn’t one to curse.
Mark rushed from the back room, wringing his hands. “Those logs of chocolate we sold to the scruffy looking fellow…” He trailed off and cursed again under his breath.
“Yes?” Wallace prodded.
“They weren’t chocolate logs,” he finished morosely.
“What are you talking about? Of course they were chocolate logs!” Wallace argued.
“Well, yes, but they weren’t just chocolate. They were some of the, um, special chocolate.” Mark threw Wallace a pointed look.
“Shit! How did the Weasleys’ special chocolate end up on the shelf? We’re to keep it in the backroom at all times!”
“I don’t know… But maybe I’d had a bit too much eggnog when I was restocking the shelves...”
“Mark, you fucking idiot!” Wallace shouted. “Oh, well, I hope that man’s friends aren’t with anyone unpleasant when they eat that chocolate.”
“I know – this one time I had some and my sister walked in and -”
“That’s disgusting! Just stop. Now.”
“Well, Merry fucking Christmas to you too!”
“No, I believe that’s what they’ll be having, Mark. A very merry Fucking Christmas, indeed…”
Grimmauld Place, Christmas morning
Harry was pissed. Not in the nice way – Mrs. Weasley wouldn’t let him near any alcohol – but in the frustrating, ulcer-causing kind of way.
I can’t believe I’m spending my Christmas holidays with Malfoy and his mother, for Christ’s sake.
Harry sat at the breakfast table petulantly spooning porridge into his mouth. He scowled over his tea at Malfoy, who glared right back.
Christmas breakfast was in full swing. Harry and Draco were joined at the table by Narcissa, Tonks, Tonks’ parents, Molly Weasley, Ron, Hermione and, of course, Ginny.
Molly beamed in his direction, Malfoy glared and Ginny huffed – he’d made no moves to rekindle their relationship since she’d been home for the holidays, or at any point over the past six months, and she was clearly upset with him, if the Stinging Hex she’d thrown at him ten minutes ago was any indication.
Narcissa smiled wanly and dipped her spoon in the thick, mealy porridge. “Thank you for inviting us, Andromeda. It was very… kind of you.”
“It’s not a problem, sister dear,” Andromeda simpered, tapping her hard-boiled egg on the side of her plate. “When I heard about your… situation, I just had to do whatever I could to help. And Molly is too kind.” She inclined her head toward Molly, who smiled in return.
Their “situation” was the Ministry’s seizure of the Malfoys’ assets, which had thrown the family on the mercy of friends and relatives. It turned out they had none of the former and very few of the latter who were willing to help. The fact that they were fastidiously avoiding the Dark Lord, on account of Draco’s having thrown himself at the Order’s feet and begging for protection not two months earlier, didn’t help matters.
Harry heard he’d cried when he begged for their help. He wished he’d been there. He would have taken pictures.
Breakfast finished, the group moved to the living room to open presents. Not surprisingly, each person received a color-coded Weasley jumper, except for Narcissa, whom Harry guessed Molly was wise enough to know would rather die than wear a hand-knitted jumper. Draco glared at his black jumper with extreme disdain, while Harry pulled his emerald green one on, and Ron moaned about getting maroon again.
Harry tore the wrapping off a Boys of Quidditch calendar, which seemed a little odd until he checked the label. It was from Ginny. He glanced up at her and she quirked an eyebrow, as if to say “if you don’t want to shag me, you’re obviously gay.” Harry rolled his eyes and opened Ron and Hermione’s gifts, a broom polishing kit and diary, respectively (“You’ll be able to keep your busy schedule organized,” Hermione said with a slight edge – she was still slightly miffed he’d foregone studying for his NEWTs in favor of searching for Horcruxes).
Lastly, Harry reached for a square-shaped item from Professor Lupin, which he noticed Ron, Hermione and Tonks had also received.
“Chocolate!” Tonks chirped, smiling, and Harry tossed aside the gold wrapping to see that, indeed, they had all received copious amounts of chocolate.
“Chocolate?” Draco taunted Harry under his breath. “How common.”
“It’s not common!” Harry bit back. “It’s lovely. I love chocolate!”
“I can tell, Potter.” Draco looked him up and down, appraisingly. “You’re looking a bit chunky.”
“I am not!”
“Sure,” Draco replied dryly.
Harry tore at the wrapper defiantly and shoved a chunk of chocolate into his mouth. “See, I can eat as much as I want.”
“Whatever, Potter," Malfoy said. "You’re so easy to bait. It’s a good thing we’re arguing over chocolate and not the war, or else you might try skewering me to death again.”
“I did not -” Harry began, but a painful lurch from his stomach stopped him mid-sentence. “Oh, fuck, I…” Grabbing his stomach, he ran from the living room as fast as he could, doubling over in the hallway. All of a sudden, the pain disappeared, and was replaced by light-headedness and a rush of blood to his groin.
“Potter, don’t walk away from me you fucking coward!” Malfoy’s voice moved from the living room to the hallway and he stalked past Harry, scanning the foyer.
Something in Harry surged and he felt the sudden need to tear off all Malfoy’s clothes and fuck him from here to Sunday. “Malfoy, here,” he croaked, and the blond spun on his heel, face full of fury.
“You’re such a twat, Potter, always making a scene -”
Harry cut him off, grabbing Malfoy by the front of his robes and throwing him against the wall. He pinned him with his hips and shoved his tongue into his mouth, moaning as he ground his aching erection against Malfoy’s pelvis.
“Potter, what the fuck are you doing?!” Malfoy hissed. “Get off me!”
Harry pulled away, frowning. Someone would hear Malfoy screeching like a hen, and then he wouldn’t be able to drive him through the floor with his cock. That would be bad. He covered Draco’s mouth with his hand and fumbled with a doorknob to his left. It turned, and Harry shoved Malfoy into what he discovered, upon spelling a light on, was a rather large broom closet.
“Now shut up,” Harry said, closing the door behind them, “and have some chocolate.” He shoved a chunk of chocolate into Malfoy’s mouth, who sputtered and looked incensed, but didn’t spit it out.
“You arsehole…” Draco chewed. “I’m gonna..” He swallowed. “Gonna…” His eyes went glassy and he looked ill for a moment. “…come in my pants if you don’t fuck me soon.” He moaned, pulling Harry to him and mashing their lips together, desperately.
“Clothes off,” Harry mumbled against Draco’s lips, breaking contact to pull his Weasley jumper over his head. He ignored the niggling at the back of his head that told him this really wasn’t normal as Malfoy fumbled with the clasp on his robe and threw it aside. He was wearing nothing but pants underneath, and his cock strained against the thin white material of his underwear.
“Lube,” Draco demanded as he pushed his underwear over and down his hips.
Harry threw his belt to the ground and kicked his jeans out of the way, looking around the closet as he pulled his undershirt off. “Broom polish!” He picked up a bottle from a dusty overhead shelf and waved it around triumphantly.
“No! You are not fucking me up the arse with musty old broom polish,” Malfoy retorted haughtily.
Harry poured some of the slick oil onto his fingers and grinned. “Too late. Get on all fours.”
For a second he thought Malfoy was going to protest, but then he got down, arched his back and stuck his arse in the air invitingly. He thought he heard Malfoy say “You’re so fucking lucky I’m that horny, speccy git,” but the rush of blood to his ears as he took his cock in hand drowned him out. Harry pumped his cock once, twice with the oil before kneeling on the floor behind Malfoy and prodding his arse with the head of his cock.
Malfoy jerked away and whipped his head around, glaring. “For fuck’s sake, Potter, lube my arse first, you idiot!”
Harry flushed scarlet and clumsily parted the cheeks of Malfoy’s arse with his left hand, rubbing his oil-slick fingers over the pucker. “Done this before, have we Malfoy?” Harry teased, trying to take the focus off his experience with these matters. Which, of course, amounted to zero.
Malfoy didn’t answer, but instead mumbled something that sounded like “more oil” and “not two fingers at once, you twat!” and Harry obliged, slowly pistoning his right index finger in and out of Malfoy’s arse, and licking the chocolate off the fingers of his left.
Another stomach lurch, two additional fingers and several pleading moans from Malfoy to “fuck me hard,” and Harry couldn’t take it anymore. His stomach fluttered pleasantly, the blood pounded through his rigid prick, and Harry thought that if he didn’t fuck something soon, he was going to die.
“Fuck,” he moaned, and prodded Malfoy’s arsehole with the tip of his cock. This time it slid in with little resistance.
After a slow start, they found a steady rhythm, the bones of Harry’s pelvis hitting Malfoy’s arse on every inward stroke.
Malfoy swore under his breath at random intervals, and continued to do so as he said: “I bet there was something – oh, fuck! – in the chocolate.”
“Why do you say that?” Harry questioned, reaching belatedly below Malfoy’s belly and grabbing his cock.
“Cause I don’t – bloody hell! – like you.”
“I don’t like you either.” Harry slowed down his thrusts.
Malfoy groaned in frustration. “Yeah right - you’re totally gay for me.”
“I am not totally gay for you!” Harry protested, and let go of Malfoy’s prick. Then he stopped moving altogether. Malfoy whined and muttered “liar” under his breath. Harry heard him clearly this time, as well as his next statement.
“You have your cock up my arse, Potter, what do you think that means?” He shoved his hips back imploringly and Harry obliged, taking up a brutal pace. He rammed Malfoy’s prostate especially hard for his last remark, drawing a strangled “Fuck!” from his lips.
He practically choked out his next retort. “The Boys of Quidditch, Potter?”
“It was a joke!” He punctuated the last word with a particularly vigorous thrust.
Malfoy grunted and bore back equally hard. “Or your girlfriend knows the truth."
“She’s not my girlfriend!” Harry said, slowing down again, but not stopping.
“Obviously,” Malfoy snorted, before moaning impatiently and ordering Harry to fuck him harder and get his hand back on his dick. Harry complied, mulling over Malfoy’s theory and accusation. He had become suspiciously and spontaneously horny after having the chocolate, but he was starting to feel a bit more clear-headed than he had when he’d shoved Malfoy into the broom closet.
A moment later: “So when did it start wearing off for you?”
Harry wasn't exactly sure what he hoped to hear.
“About five minutes ago.” Malfoy keened against Harry’s hand as he stroked his cock with a slow twisting motion.
“You mean when you were moaning for me to quit teasing and fuck you hard with my hot cock?”
“Your words, not mine.” Harry sped up the movements of his hand.
“I… oh, fuck Potter, FUCK!” Malfoy cried suddenly and Harry felt Malfoy’s dick jump, come spilling over his fingers. Malfoy’s muscles contracted deliciously and then Harry was coming, harder than he thought he ever had. He slumped over Malfoy’s back and they both tumbled to the floor, ending up a mess of exhausted limbs, spent cocks and heaving chests.
Harry rolled onto his back and looked up at the dusty ceiling. “Now I know why Professor Lupin loves chocolate so much.”
Malfoy started chuckling beside him and, at seeing Harry's annoyed glare, decided to clue him in on the joke.
“I love that Lupin thought your love life was so pathetic he decided to dose you with an aphrodisiac to get you laid.”
“Lupin did not dose me with an aphrodisiac,” Harry said.
“Obviously he did,” Malfoy rolled his head to the side and gave Harry a chiding look.
Harry returned with a challenging stare. “Well, you’re the one who enjoyed fucking me without it.”
“I did not… I… you… shut up, Potter.”
Harry smirked. “You’re queer, Malfoy.”
“So are you!”
“Maybe.” Harry heaved his whole upper body slightly in what appeared to be a shrug.
“Maybe?" Malfoy parroted. "You just had your cock up my arse.”
Harry rolled up onto his side and let out an exasperated sigh. “Okay, fine. I’m gay. You happy?”
“Oh, incandescently." Malfoy broke into a grin. "You realize your friends out there are probably shagging each other right now? It’s hilarious.”
“Oh, God. That’s…”
Both paused to ponder the possibilities. Harry sincerely hoped Ron and Ginny were nowhere near each other when the chocolate took effect. Or Tonks and her parents, for that matter. And weren't the twins supposed to come over later?…
“So, Potter," Malfoy drawled a moment later, "you think you could be gay again? Like now?”
“Again?” Harry's prick gave a tiny, hopeful jerk.
“Well, do you want to go out there and see the fallout?" Malfoy said. "You need to keep me occupied. I bore easily. Ugh, can you imagine Weasley and Granger out there shagging? Or that goofy cousin of mine?"
Then, after a beat: "DEAR GOD THEY’RE IN THERE WITH MY MOTHER.”
Harry tried not to laugh. “I’m sure they’re not…" he gave up, as he was fairly sure they were.
Malfoy turned over in a huff and crossed his arms against his chest. “I’m never leaving this broom closet. Ever again.”
Harry nudged Malfoy in his back and tried, coaxingly: “Well, I have been wanting to try it the other way around…”
It worked like a charm. Malfoy rolled over and appeared to be pondering his statement.
“The other way around? Potter, - you want to bottom for me?” He smiled again, a genuine, almost coy smile that extended all the way to his grey eyes. Harry grew flustered under his unabashedly naughty stare.
“I, uh, um, maybe?”
“God bless Remus fucking Lupin,” Malfoy said wryly.
Harry had to laugh at that and rose gingerly to search for the discarded oil canister while Malfoy licked his lips in anticipation.
“So, Malfoy, ever tried rimming?” Harry tossed the thought out behind him, fishing for a (hopefully favourable) reaction.
At the sound of Malfoy’s guttural moan behind him, Harry knew this was going to be the best Christmas EVER.