Recipient's name: ohno_elephants
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: Beware of Dragons, for thou art easy to spit on, and need a good shag.
Warnings (if any): badly executed humour, oblivious!Harry, shower sex, rimming.
Author's/artist's notes: I hope you enjoy this. Thanks to my beta (she knows who she is) and thanks also to legomymalfoy (and her helpers), for all the hard work she has put into this fic exchange!
The mating rituals of the Hebridean Black are probably the most bizarre of all. During the first stages of mating season, the females will expectorate on potential suitors, purely to see if their pheromones are compatible, thus finding a possible mate. But watch out, dragon handlers! You wouldn't want to be caught covered in dragon phlegm. The results can be quite... unexpected!
"Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit"
Harry would certainly not have used the word unexpected to describe the result of being struck by dragon spittle. Well, yes, it was unexpected, but in a completely unimaginable way. The author of that damn book had obviously never been on the receiving end of a dragon bogie in his life, because Harry thought of numerous adjectives that were much more descriptive.
Unlucky was one. You would have thought that a champion Quidditch seeker could miss a massive gob of dragon spit, but in his defence, she got him unexpectedly from behind.
Nobody mentioned the gooey stuff itched and burned like fire, seeping through clothing and even dragon hide. Neither did they mention the fact that the ache that developed in his groin would be unbearable to the point where he didn't care what he fucked, he just needed relief.
Out in the field, dragon handlers had to use whatever resources were on hand in their tents. Naturally, in typical Malfoy style, the blond git would have to bring the most pretentious fully equipped wizarding tent in existence, complete with a well appointed shower. Harry felt the itching burn getting worse as he realised he needed water to wash away the offending snot.
He barged in to Malfoy's tent, not caring one bit about the twat and his protests. He needed to feel water sluicing down his back to wash away the pain and the burning itch. But he was naked and under the shower when he realised – all too late – that the pheromones in the dragon spittle had other side effects.
His cock was instantly hard, and he had a desire to fuck the first thing he could lay his hands on. It just so happened to be Malfoy, who still hadn't shut-the-fuck-up about Harry barging into his tent and using his shower. In a bout of aggressiveness he never thought possible, Harry quickly found a much better use for Malfoy's mouth as he dragged that blond head down on to his cock.
The rumours had been true. Malfoy was a brilliant cock sucker. With one hand on the back of Malfoy's head - his fingers roughly entwined through those pale strands of hair - and the other stroking his cheek, he was engulfed by the warm heat of Malfoy's mouth. That tongue knew exactly what to do, and Harry had to stop himself from fucking that face too hard. He liked the idea of Malfoy down on his knees, watching as those thin lips wrapped around him. He liked it so much that he came hard and fast, pumping strand after strand of come down Malfoy's throat.
Malfoy couldn't complain – he obviously got off on it, judging by the come splattered on his own stomach, and the fact that he swallowed every last drop.
Damn dragon pheromones. The effects were intense, albeit short-lived. Within five minutes, Harry was utterly mortified and exceedingly embarrassed. No matter how profusely he apologised to Malfoy, he felt he deserved to be hexed by the litany of curses Malfoy aimed in his general direction.
Unforgettable was another descriptive adjective.
No dragon could have such a good aim as to hit Harry twice with a gob of spittle, but in Harry's experience, sheer dumb luck followed him everywhere.
The second time around wasn't any less painful. If anything, this wallop was packed with an even more intense punch. Harry didn't even stop to ask Malfoy's permission as he stormed directly into the shower. Malfoy seemed a little less vocal in his protests, but that was probably because Harry hexed his voice to silence. He wondered why he never thought to do that before.
But damn the pheromones and the lust they drove through his veins. It was intoxicating. Yet again, Malfoy was just there, and his mouth felt just as good the second time around.
He arched up and groaned as Malfoy's tongue teased the tip of his cock. It wasn't the thought of Malfoy's mouth and how soft and wet that throat felt as he pounded into it that made him finally come. It was watching those lips wrapped around his cock, and seeing those eyes look up at him through pale lashes, that made him realise he wanted to slam hard into that tight, pale arse.
The thought of that made him come hard down Malfoy's throat, and he was still pumping it over that pointed face as he pulled out. Malfoy licked his lips greedily, a sight that turned Harry on further, and he pulled Malfoy up for a kiss, licking his own come and taste from his face and hands.
For some unknown reason, he then went down on Malfoy's slender and pale cock, taking him completely by surprise. It tasted good – almost too good – as he stroked and fondled Malfoy's balls with one hand. Malfoy's cock was ripe for the sucking, and Harry couldn't get enough of it. Long, but firm, Harry teased the tip.
Malfoy was so responsive, groaning and mewling like a cat as Harry teased that cock. Harry's hands took hold of Malfoy's arse as his fingers travelled around and pressed ever so slightly against the edge of his hole. Malfoy let out a delighted gasp.
Malfoy was full of wanton little surprises. As Harry's finger pushed, Malfoy let out a delightful groan that sent a shiver of anticipation down to Harry's already spent cock. It registered some interest, and Harry imagined what it would be like to fuck Malfoy up against the wall.
His finger teased that tight entrance and he barely pushed his finger in when Draco came, screaming out Harry's name and a string of curses.
They didn't speak when Harry left.
Invigorating. Another fine adjective.
They say things come in threes, but to his credit, Harry did try to dodge old Bertha's incoming bogie. He was beginning to feel like a target in some bizarre dragon sport. He now knew how the snitch felt. But he suspected that either the dragons were much better at aiming for their targets, or his reflexes were starting to slow down.
He was beginning to get used to the pain, but the less than unpleasant side effects seemed to be more intense than ever before.
He nearly startled Malfoy out of his skin when he directly Apparated into the shower, only to find Malfoy already in there. "Sorry, Malfoy," he had enough presence of mind to apologise, but a wicked smirk overcame his face when he realised why Malfoy was actually in the shower. There was only one way to scratch that itch, and seeing Malfoy with one hand on the wall and the other on his cock, he felt a sudden boldness that wasn't completely attributed to his pheromone-laden condition.
It didn't take long to rid himself of the remains of the dragon phlegm, and within a split second, he had Malfoy pushed hard up against the shower tiles.
He knew what he wanted, and it wasn't Malfoy's mouth. He wanted a different heat – a tight heat. Malfoy put up a fair struggle, but he found an unknown strength to keep Malfoy's hands bound above his head as another hand toyed with the cheeks of his arse.
Malfoy groaned, and Harry smirked when he felt the blond arch into his touch. A thumb circled around the edge of Malfoy's hole, and he just flicked it over the edge, causing Malfoy to whimper.
Beads of water splashed down Malfoy's back, and Harry watched as bead after bead followed the pale skin down his spine and disappearing into that enticing crack. Before he knew it, his tongue followed the path of the water, tracking it all the way down.
Harry knelt down, kneading and spreading that fine arse to gain better access. His tongue circled that tight hole before he gently blew across the surface. He heard Malfoy cry out something, before pushing back in earnest. Harry just laughed. He wanted it badly as well.
His tongue breached the hole and the feeling was intoxicating. Fucking Malfoy with his tongue was new and exciting. For each gentle push he felt a corresponding throb in his own cock and he brought one hand up to wrap around Malfoy's shaft. He ran a thumb up over the head of Malfoy's cock at the same time he pushed with his tongue.
The moans of pleasure from Malfoy went straight to his own cock, and the throbbing itch from the dragon pheromones made him growl. He wanted to feel that tight heat pulsing around his cock.
He barely remembered casting a wandless and silent lubrication charm as he pushed the head of his cock past the edge of that tight ring. Malfoy mewled like a girl, but his body pushed back, wanting more.
It was so tight. So tight and so hot. Hot and tight and he wanted to pound hard. Malfoy's voice sounded deep and raw as he begged Harry to fuck him.
That was all the permission he needed to fuck Malfoy hard. Harder than he wanted, harder than he imagined. But then again, he never dreamed he would be fucking Malfoy, and he never dreamed that the blond would feel this good.
Harry pounded hard, watching as Malfoy's knuckles were pale as they gripped the edge of the bathtub, pushing back so responsively against Harry's brutal rhythm. How could he not be turned on by the thought and the sight?
Malfoy begged so prettily but Harry wanted to deny him. Malfoy arched back, his body flush with Harry's. Harry wanted Malfoy to surrender to it first. "You want to come? You want to come knowing that I'm the one fucking you and that you're begging me?"
"You were wanking when I Apparated. You were thinking about me, weren't you?" Harry demanded.
Draco tried to speak, but he cried out instead as Harry plundered his prostate. He could only nod instead. "Y... yes, ahh fuck!" he cried.
Harry snickered. "Yes," he hissed, licking the shell of Draco's ear as he thrust and fucked again and again. "Who knew you'd be such a responsive fuck, hmm? Come for me, Draco," Harry practically purred the name as Draco finally cried and came, spurting over the tiles.
Harry groaned as Draco shuddered and that tight heat spasmed around him. The rush of lust and overwhelming desire overtook him as he came hard, crying out Draco's name and burying his fingers into Draco's shoulders, hoping that it would never end.
Draco didn't yell or hex Harry when he tired to leave the tent. Instead, Draco pulled him in for a kiss, stubble brushing up against stubble, and Harry wondered if the effects of the pheromones had truly dissipated.
"You know, you might try coming over here once without the dragon spit. I hear that most people fuck without it – can't imagine anyone using it as lube either. What a ghastly thought."
Harry frowned and did a double take. "Are you saying..." he never finished the thought as his brain processed the concept that Malfoy just propositioned him. Why was he not protesting?
Draco saw the hesitation, and before Harry could reply, warm lips and a soft tongue broke though Harry's thoughts with a thorough kiss. Rough stubble brushed away any lingering doubts and he responded in kind, returning the kiss and wondering why this suddenly seemed like such a good idea.
As Draco broke away, he looked deep into his eyes. "We can try this like any normal couple. I can fuck you in my bed – and we can do without the dragon bogies for foreplay." The ever-present Malfoy smirk had returned.
"You don't seem as... outraged as I would have expected," Harry replied with a raised eyebrow. Where was the snarky bastard who was always trying to get one over on him? "But who says you get to be the one doing the fucking?" he asked, adjusting his crotch as it responded to such a thought.
The familiar smirk was back and Draco let out a wry little laugh. "Yeah, right. In your dreams, Potter. You haven't completely tamed this dragon. You and your damn pheromones have been cramping my style."
Harry paused, not really knowing what to say. "I think most people would consider that an invitation, Potter. You're supposed to accept it, or decline. Your choice of course, but if you do, we're fucking in my bed. I'm not sleeping in any flea riddled rat's nest you might call a bed."
Harry was still processing the idea, stunned to silence. He tried to speak but words couldn't come out.
Malfoy rolled his eyes, but Harry noticed the genuine smile behind Malfoy's playful smirk. "I thought you Gryffindors were reckless – lived life on the edge. It's only us dragons who like their creature comforts."
He didn't exactly say yes, but he did leave Draco with a kiss that left him with no doubt as to his answer.
Perhaps dragons were smarter than people, after all.