Summary: Harry needs lessons in sex and Draco is willing to teach. Only, more happens than just teaching.
Warnings: Rimming, cross dressing, sex
Note: For earthquakedream. Have a wonderful holiday season! A huge thanks for the beta work goes to the best person in the world, strigoia.
Song quotes are from the song 'You Showed Me' by The Turtles.
You showed me how to do
Exactly what you do
How I fell in love with you
And when I tried it
I could see you fall
And I decided
It's not a trip at all
You taught it to me too
Exactly what you do
And now you love me too
It didn't need to make sense. He didn't need to know how. But he did know why. It was just another way to humiliate Potter. The newest, most personal way. It was brilliant, flawless except for the fact that he was only just developing it thanks to Weasley's loud whispers.
"Potter," Draco said shortly, leaning against the door jam of the Potion's supply closet. The other boy gave him an irritated toss of the head, not taking his eyes off the ingredient labels. "I heard about your little...problem."
Potter's head jerked to him, causing Draco to smirk.
"What problem?" he asked, voice a little too high.
Draco's smirk only grew. "That you are terribly inexperienced."
"I have a girlfriend!" he protested, turning back to the shelves and snatching the nearest thing off. He made to stalk past but Draco grabbed his arm.
"Weasley back there just told you she said you can't even kiss properly. Kiss, Potter. How pathetic." Forcing a little bit of pity to shine in his eyes, Draco noticed Potter slowly deflating. This was going to be easy. No one liked being told they lacked in the sexual department, not that Draco knew from personal experience. He hadn't done anything with anyone, holding up the Malfoy name. Only the best could have a Malfoy.
Potter crossed his arms defensively, glowering straight into Draco's eyes. "So I don't sleep around. Susan likes that about me."
"But if you can't even kiss properly, Potter, no one will give you the time of day."
Watching the conflict in Potter's eyes was the best part of it. Either that shade of green showed everything or Potter was just that easy to read. He needed lessons in holding in emotions, like his father had taught him. Lessons...
"I can offer you lessons," Draco suggested, moving closer and whispering so anyone walking over wouldn't hear. Snape would probably come to investigate soon. He always kept such a tight leash on Potter, trying to catch him at everything.
Brow furrowed, Potter asked cautiously, "What do you mean?" Draco simply raised his eyebrows, not knowing what he meant either. Lessons? It sounded good. It was a sure-fire way to get the best out of Potter's humiliation. "I -- I won't touch anyone that's not in a skirt."
Draco scoffed. What was that about?
"Oh, God, Potter!" He refrained from shivering. That was disgusting, it was. "You're one sick pervert!"
"Then what'd you mean?" the Gryffindor wailed, stomping out of the supply closet and plopping in his seat next to Weasley, face almost as red as the blood traitor's hair. Draco wasn't sure if he should laugh or be angry that Potter thought he meant that. Thought he was capable of thinking of that.
Deciding the humiliation of Potter and tons of blackmail was more important than whatever Potter thought of him, Draco quickly scrawled a note out and slipped it in Potter's hand on the way out of class. Now all he had to do was wait until tonight. If Potter showed, let the games begin.
The rest of the day Draco plotted. He plotted and plotted and came up with nothing. What had possessed him to say that? To set this up? Sure, blackmail was all fine and dandy, but not when he had absolutely no ideas.
Maybe he could get some girl to teach Potter. Would Potter go for that? He could get Pansy. After much persuasion she would agree, Draco was sure.
But he didn't want to watch that.
Casting a quick look at his watch he stopped pacing, relieved. It was ten after nine. Potter wouldn't show. He shouldn't have even thought so. How foolish could he be? With a soft chuckle he stood and headed out of the Charms classroom, only to have it open the moment his fingers touched the handle.
They stared at each other for the longest time until Draco moved aside, gesturing Potter in. The second he passed the doorway Draco shut it with a snap. He didn't want any of Potter's friends to come with, and they were sure to have followed.
"You're late," Draco admonished. "I won't tolerate that."
Potter rolled his eyes, shifted uneasily, and then pinned Draco with a confused stare. "What do you mean by offering five lessons?"
"I mean," Draco answered slowly, with precaution, making it up as he went. "You're inexperienced. I can help you. And if you ever intend on scoring with girls you're going to need to know what you're doing."
Narrowed eyes gleamed at him. "What's in it for you?"
Draco toyed with telling the truth or some lame-ass excuse but settled for a half-truth. "I find it hilariously funny. I want to see you blunder. And, who knows, maybe I'm just feeling nice today."
After a long silence Potter nodded. "I stand by what I said earlier today."
A moment of remembrance and Draco nodded. "Right. Skirt."
"What's first?" he asked, cheeks turning red.
And Draco didn't have an answer. They just stared at each other, again. Eventually Draco tapped a finger on his chin so it appeared as if he were thinking. He looked Potter up and down. Something embarrassing, something that would be embarrassing for Potter but not himself. "Wank."
Potter cocked his head, forehead drawn in confusion.
"Wank yourself off. You know, masturbate."
"What?" Potter screeched so loud Draco feared Filch would hear and come running. He waved his wand, muttering a silencing spell on the room.
"You heard me." Draco tried to keep his emotions as closed off as stone but he could feel his face turning pink. What had he been thinking? Wanking? He didn't want to watch Potter wank. But it was too late to back out now. "Do you want lessons or not?"
Potter suddenly went from disbelieving to skeptical. "How's that help?"
Thinking quickly, Draco replied, "I'll know how much work you need."
"But I'm not going to be wanking girls!" outburst Potter.
Draco narrowed his eyes. This was too much work. It wasn't worth it. "Obviously, or do I need to explain anatomy to you too." He gasped loudly. "Have you had the sex talk?"
A blush spread on Potter's face. His gaze skittered to the left. "Of course," he garbled and there was no doubt in Draco's mind that Potter hadn't. But he didn't care. He wasn't about to explain sex to the nitwit. It wasn't his fault Potter had no one to explain it to him. Besides, he found it terribly funny.
"Then get on with it," Draco said. "Unless you're some kind of prudish freak you can get yourself off. So go ahead."
A pained look overcame Potter's face, making him look constipated. "You're going to watch?" he whined, like he was actually thinking of it. Draco was surprised. He didn't expect Potter to follow through.
"No," Draco said seriously. "I'm going to gather crucial information in which to base your remaining four lessons on from the corridor." God, Potter was so annoying.
Potter grinned sheepishly. "Oh, well, that's --"
Draco gave him a stern look, stopping him short. Potter sighed heavily and wrung his hands together, eyes jumping everywhere. He wasn't going to do it. Draco didn't have any other ideas. His only idea was stupid enough. He turned to go but Potter made a kneeing sound and shoved a hand down his trousers. Draco's eyebrows practically reached his hairline.
A cloud moved outside, covering half the moon so that it was harder for Draco to see him. He had to move closer for a better view. Did Potter have his hand down his pants?
"You're not going to get anywhere going like that," Draco announced, watching Potter's eyelids flutter but not open. "Trousers are too tight."
Potter's eyes snapped open and he glared at Draco before sitting against the wall and unbuttoning his trousers. The zipper sounded unusually loud in the silence of their breathing. Then Potter's trousers and pants were around his ankles and his half-hard cock was out and Draco's mouth was dry.
He darted a tongue out to moisten his lips as Potter's hand soared over his cock, barely getting any reactions. Potter must not be very exhibitist, which Draco found odd. Potter loved attention, didn't he?
Five minutes passed. Potter's red cock was now erect and leaking slightly. It was taking so god damn long. Potter definitely needed lessons. And help. Lots of help. Draco didn't realize he had crouched down and crawled forward until Potter's eyes opened and mouth gaped.
"You take too bloody long," Draco's voice cracked. He reached forward, Potter's hand falling willingly from his cock. It felt so strange in Draco's hand: heavy and hot and somewhat wet. So similar but different from when he touched his own.
Moving his hand cautiously, Draco gripped tightly in surprise when a loud thwack sounded. Looking around Draco saw Potter wincing and rubbing the back of his head. Draco smiled and twisted his hand, pinching the slit.
Potter legs spasmed, bending and unbending as his orgasm took over. His head hit the wall again but this time he didn't seem to notice.
Draco leaned back on his heels, watching the reaction smugly. He had pulled that reaction from Potter. From Potter. Oh shit. Quickly he wiped his come-covered hands on Potter's trousers and stood. He pressed a hand against his erection, willing it to go down, but it wouldn't. He wasn't gay. He fancied girls and their curves and squishy breasts. Just because he wanked a boy off meant nothing. It was a mistake. A --
Potter's hands dropped to his lap, covering himself. Draco didn't see a point in that. He already touched the thing. "You touched me," Potter accused.
"You liked it," Draco snapped defensively, nodding his head at Potter's lap. Come was rolling off his legs and onto the cold floor. Draco gulped. How was he going to be able to sit in Charms anymore? At least he didn't have the class with the Gryffindors.
"No." Potter moved to put his pants on but his elbow landed in the mess on his thighs and he frowned, momentarily distracted. He slipped his wand from his trousers and muttered a Scourgify. It worked. Potter looked up from the floor then at the door. "I said -- skirt, you know."
Draco sighed heavily, thinking of a way to get out of this one. "It was valuable information and if you don't like the means in which I have to go to achieve it, which I didn't like anyway, I don't have to waste my time making you into a non-loser. I hear girls dig the inexperienced, bumbling idiots." In the silence that followed he headed towards the door, sounds of Potter dressing filling his ears.
The moment Draco's hand turned the brass doorknob Potter spoke. "When's the next lesson?"
Draco gaped, turning to look at him. The cloud moved and bright moonlight filled the room, illuminating the thoroughly debauched look on Potter's face, worry etched around the edges. "Um, okay. Friday. In two days. At nine again. Same place."
Potter nodded curtly and Draco exited, utterly confused.
The confusion stayed with him. It was all he felt the next day along with a tinge of annoyance. During breakfast, and lunch, and dinner Draco could feel eyes on him. Green eyes that wouldn't go away. But it was during Care of Magical Creatures that got to him the most. He just wanted to wring Potter's skinny neck. And yet, deep inside him, he wanted to wank Potter off again. Something was terribly wrong with him. Gregory and Vincent had even begun to notice something was up, if their constant pestering was anything to go by.
Why he had taken Care of Magical Creatures again was a mystery for him. Sure, he knew why but he didn't know why, if that made any sense. It was an easy class for Gregory and Vincent to pass and they already dropped the harder classes and were stuck with it. Draco must have been feeling very generous at the time to keep up with the class because of them. He was just bloody mental.
During the class, which to Draco's dismay they still had with Gryffindors, Potter had been staring at him again, this time sitting a few feet behind him so that Draco fancied he could feel Potter's annoyingly hot breath on his neck.
Deciding fucking with Potter's head would be the most fun and simplest way to avert his attention Draco had turned around. They locked eyes and Draco ran a tongue over his lips, winking cheesily. Potter's face flared up instantly and he jerked his attention away. But Weasley had seen the exchange, as had Granger.
While Weasley muttered to Potter, Granger stared at Draco questioningly. Draco only sneered at her and turned his attention back to the half giant, who was bumbling around like the fool he was.
His plan had only worked for ten minutes. After that Potter was back to staring, and averting his eyes whenever Draco tried glaring at him.
The next day was the same. The only thing that kept Draco from jumping up and bashing the sod's head against the stone floor, or getting either Gregory or Vincent to do so, was the thought that later that night was their second meeting. And more comforting was the thought that he had a plan. Potter was sure to make a fool out of himself this time.
"Why are we in the Quidditch showers?" Potter whined, rubbing his hands together as if he was cold, but it wasn't that cold out. It was only the third week in September after all.
"Because," Draco grumbled, digging through the closet next to a shower. "There are no Quidditch practices today. Therefore, no one will walk in and see."
Potter shifted, peering over Draco's shoulder. "See what exactly?"
Draco whacked Potter in the face. His breath against his neck was irritating, like a fly that wouldn't buzz off.
Ah-hah! Beneath a pile of loofahs laid one suction cup. Draco pulled it out, Scorgified it, and strolled into the shower, Potter on his heels. He slammed it mouth level on the wall and pushed on it, making sure it would stick. With a wicked smile he turned to Potter.
"You will be learning the fine art of nipple sucking." He spared a quick glance at the suction cup. "Only, we're improvising and using this."
Potter blinked. "Um..."
The dry tile underneath them was dusty. It kicked up as Potter walked closer. Draco watched its movement, an urge to laugh insanely bubbling up inside him. How amusing this was going to be. Potter would have to go through with this. Sucking on a suction cup was nowhere near as embarrassing as wanking. And there was no way Draco could get involved, therefore it was one thing Draco would get blackmail from that wouldn't come back to bite him in the arse.
"Girls like having their titties sucked," Draco urged because Potter was just staring at the clear cup. Of course, he didn't know if it was true but he liked to tweak his at night so why wouldn't girls?
A deep sigh and Potter was standing directly in front of the suction cup, lips a mere inch away from it. The dust settled and silence echoed around them.
Draco tapped his foot impatiently. "It's not going to suck itself."
A low growl emerged from Potter throat and then he pressed forward, teeth clamping onto the bit that stuck out. Draco winced visibly. He knew from experience that sharp nails hurt so teeth would only be worse. "Don't use your teeth. Or, only a little scrape every now and then. Haven't you ever touched your nipples when wanking?"
Potter flushed and refused to answer, instead swirling his tongue around the tip. Cautiously he wrapped his lips around it and sucked, eyes closing. Draco couldn't help it; Potter looked so funny. He burst out in laughter, clutching his convulsing stomach. Potter simply ignored him, continuing on with his molestation of the suction cup.
Inside Draco was glowing. The first lesson must have been a fluke. He wasn't feeling any arousal, or really any emotion except for amusement. In fact, he bet that no matter what Potter did he wouldn't get excited. "Now try it on me."
Potter's head cracked on the wall and he woozily grasped it, staring at Draco with crossed eyes. "You're not a girl," he stated slowly.
"Well spotted," Draco replied acidly. "It's the only way to know if you actually can."
"I said nothing without a skirt. A girl, you know." But he moved closer anyway, darting his tongue out to wet his lips.
Ignoring him, Draco slipped his robes off, letting them swirl in the dust, and unbuttoned his shirt. He let it hang there, not wanting to make even more clothes dusty. As Potter stared at him momentary panic coursed through him. What if his chest was too skinny?
He shook his head, dislodging such thoughts. Who cared what Potter thought about his body? He sure didn't.
"Just don't use teeth," he muttered into Potter's black mop, surprised at the willingness of him. He must be absolutely desperate to impress Susan Bones. Draco scowled. Why would Potter want some Hufflepuff bitch anyway? She was on the chubby side.
Warm air puffed across his left nipple, transforming it into a hard nub. One minute later Potter had managed to do nothing but breathe onto him.
"Fine," Draco huffed. "We'll start with kissing." He barely had time to wonder what the fuck he was saying when the top of Potter's head connected with his chin. He grunted and rubbed at the tenderness, sending a scowl Potter's way. Potter went to mouth "Sorry" but stopped at the last minute and narrowed his eyes.
"I told you I wasn't doing anything to anyone who wasn't in a skirt." His green eyes turned accusatory. "And you agreed with me!"
"Kissing's nothing, Potter, so don't act like it's a big deal. If you had parents you would kiss them" -- Potter made a movement towards him, fists clenched -- "but you don't so I guess I can see why you think it's a big deal. But, anyway, Bones even said kissing was a big problem so you need to work on that."
Besides, kissing was something that Draco had experience with. He had kissed Pansy numerous times, which was why suggesting kissing didn't mean he was gay or anything. He had kissed a girl and liked it. Pansy was a good kisser.
Suddenly Potter's fists unclenched and he simply looked self-conscious. "Oh, really," Draco scoffed. "You can't be that bad." Potter's gaze didn't leave the tiled floor. "Can you?"
Determination filled Potter's eyes, making them shine and he locked gazes with Draco, whose breath was coming in short bursts. He didn't know what was wrong with him.
Potter's eyelids crinkled with the sheer force of how tightly he squeezed them shut. Then his lips landed on Draco's slightly parted ones and -- shit, Potter really didn't know what he was doing. It was terribly slobbery, so much that Draco felt like he was kissing a dog. All Potter did was press their lips together time after time, making strange smacking sounds. He would have laughed if the disgust of having Potter's saliva all over his face wasn't overwhelming that emotion.
Then Potter opened his mouth and thrust his tongue out, trying to drown Draco, he was sure.
"Oh, god," Draco moaned, shoving Potter away and spitting onto the floor. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, contemplating the red-faced boy before him. "I take it back. You are that bad."
Defensively Potter turned his head away, wiping his face on his shoulder. "Well, I never kissed anyone before besides Cho and that was wet --"
"Gee, I wonder why."
Potter shot a glare at him. "No, she was crying."
"I would be too."
"You're not," he pointed out, then seemed to realize what that meant and quieted, shuffling his feet. Not much dust shifted this time. They had made a clear ring around their feet.
"How about I show you how to kiss," Draco suggested, moving closer. Potter grudgingly nodded. Irritated that Potter wouldn't look at him, he grabbed Potter's chin and thrust it towards him. Now they were glowering at each other. "Make sure you swallow your spit before I kiss you. And there's no need to use so much saliva. It's not a required substance for kissing. In fact, don't do anything. Just get a feel of what I'm doing."
There was no doubt as he closed the distance between them. He may not be the world's most experienced kisser, nor as good as Pansy, but he was a whole hell of a lot better than Potter.
He brushed his tongue against Potter's bottom lip, coaxing him to open. Once Potter did he rolled his tongue over Potter's, reveling in the wet heat. It wasn't as messy as the first time, then again Potter wasn't doing anything but standing there with his mouth open.
The tongue underneath his stirred, breaking restraint that Draco didn't know he was using. He pushed forward until Potter was backed up against the wall. Fingers hooked in his trousers bands and pulled their hips together, grinding erections.
Draco tugged Potter's hair, pulling his head back to hit the wall for a third time and nipped a path down his neck, sucking when he reached Potter's Adams apple.
Then Potter's hands cupped arse and his kissing was bad but not as much as before. There wasn't nearly as much spit this time, but Potter now seemed determined to make Draco choke on his tongue. Potter arched off the wall, grinding forcefully into his pelvis and Draco jumped up, locking his ankles around Potter's waist. They were the same height and probably same weight, causing Potter to buckle underneath him. He switched their positions so the wall would help hold Draco up.
Draco shoved Potter's head down to his chest and commanded, "Try again." His tongue trailed around Draco's nipple, making bumps rise on his heated skin. Then Potter clamped down on it with his lips and Draco was the one arching off the wall. It felt so fucking good. Why hadn't he had Pansy do this to him before?
Their erections still ground together. That combined with Potter's teasing and kneading of his arse, sent Draco over the edge. He came with a shout, shooting his load in his pants. He tried to feel annoyed at that but it didn't work in his sated state.
Potter still shoved against him, refusing to let Draco drop his legs and thereby break the full-on contact of their hips. He plundered Draco's mouth and Draco let him. He grabbed a hold of Potter's black hair and tugged. He shuddered against Draco, dropping his head on Draco's shoulder.
Shit, Draco thought, trailing a hand over Potter's backside. He was utterly out of control.
The scene played out before him stopped him dead in his tracks. Potter and Bones were wrapped around each other against the deserted corridor wall, sucking face.
Bones broke away to gasp for air. "You're getting much better at kissing," she panted, tossing red hair over her shoulder. Draco smiled smugly. Of course Potter was better at kissing. He should be. After all, he was taking lessons from him.
Potter shrugged casually and kissed her again, sliding his tongue between her lips. Draco's stomach curdled. How disgusting. And Potter wasn't even as sloppy as he had been with him. Had Potter been practicing a lot with Bones?
Before Draco could figure out what he was doing exactly, he walked out of the shadows and cleared his throat. The couple sprang apart, probably thinking it was a professor.
"So sorry about that," he sneered, trying to sound apologetic. Bones scratched her face nervously. Potter was staring at his trainers. "But I need to have a word with Potter."
Potter made to follow him but Bones held him back, glaring at Draco. Their rivalry was no secret and Bones probably thought herself courageous for preventing an argument.
Draco decided to continue on anyway. It was Potter's own fault. Sending a smoldering look at Potter just to spite Bones, he spoke lowly. "Next lesson's tonight. Same time, same place."
While Potter glanced wide-eyed between Draco and Bones, Draco stalked past them, brushing ever so slightly against Potter. The other boy wrenched away from his touch, face filled with panic.
"What lessons?" questioned Bones. The only response Draco heard from Potter before he was out of ear shot was a mumble. He grinned widely. Tonight would be more extreme. He was going to make Potter beg for him and forget all about Bones. No longer did he care about his own reactions to Potter. It was all an unspoken competition with Bones now.
An extra bounce stuck with him the whole way to the dungeons. He didn't forget Potter's whole skirt mantra, though. Oh, he was sure he could convince Potter otherwise but just to keep from protesting... When everyone was asleep he accio'd his broom and flew into the girl's dorm.
Draco made sure to get there first. He had to leave an hour early just so he had enough time to sneak into the classroom without anyone stopping him. Sure, he was wearing his robes, clasped tightly around his legs, but he wasn't taking any chances. If anyone found out he was wearing a skirt. If Pansy found out he had stolen her skirt. He grimaced and slipped the robes off, hoping against all hope that the next person to pass through the doors was Potter and not some stray student looking for Professor Flitwick.
The door slammed open and Potter stormed in. "What were you thinking earlier?! I had to answer all sorts of ques -- W-what are you wearing?"
"A skirt," Draco answered simply, reveling in the reaction he caused. Potter was staring at him with a slack jaw, eyes glazed.
Suddenly Potter was pushing him onto the nearest desk, kissing him hungrily. Draco moaned in surprise. Hands trailed up his thigh and under the skirt, stopping the moment they reached his bare cock. Draco smirked around Potter tongue. Not wearing pants was a brilliant idea.
Then Potter was straddling him, hands still roaming under the plaid skirt. Potter's tongue moved again, and they were exploring each other's mouths, teeth nipping playfully.
"Bones is right," Draco gasped, unzipping Potter's trousers. "You are much better at kissing. How much have you practiced with her?"
"S'not practicing with her," he grunted, pressing down and rotating. Draco bit his lip. "I'm dating her."
Infuriated, Draco bucked up, distracting Potter enough to roll him onto the floor and straddle him. He grinned down at him. "Yet you're here with me."
Quickly, before Potter could do something to stop him, he turned around so he was facing Potter's covered feet and flipped the skirt up. "Try giving me a rimjob."
Potter slid out from under him and just sat there, staring at him. Draco huffed. He did know what rimming was, right? "Do you know what I mean?"
Short nails dug into Draco's calves. He dropped his head and looked under to find Potter clutching his legs. "Of course," he answered shortly, breath bursting on Draco's arse, who wiggled. The fabric of the skirt shifting over his cock felt so good he wiggled again.
"Mmm," Potter groaned. A hand left Draco's leg and pushed on Potter's erection, straining to slink out of his opened trousers.
"Come on," he urged, thrusting his arse out even more. "Girls like rimming. Really." Like he knew.
Apparently mentioning girls was the wrong thing to say. Potter jerked back, not touching him. Draco could still feel eyes gazing lustfully at him though.
Impatience won out and Draco slipped his -- and Pansy's -- clothes off, lying on his back. "Undress," he commanded, watching as a blush settled on Potter's cheeks. He undressed though, as fast as possible. "Straddle my chest and face my feet."
A frown but Potter did as told. He was clenching his arse and Draco watched curiously. He reached a hand up, passing it over Potter's quivering bottom.
"I don't --" Potter started, and then youched as Draco lightly scraped a nail down his squeezing arsecrack.
"Relax," Draco said softly, bending his legs and spreading them as far out as possible. Then he shoved Potter down so he was lying atop of him, arse the only thing in his view. But Potter didn't relax. Draco sighed heavily. "Do what I do."
Draco took a deep breath, breathing in Potter's musky scent, and reassuring himself. He'd never done anything like this. Kissing was as far as he'd gotten with Pansy and no one else went as far as Pansy did. He'd only heard about rimming from Blaise's bragging, when he'd found a girl to perform it on him.
Tentatively he licked Potter's left cheek, causing it to tense even more. He nuzzled, trying to make him relax. He wasn't going to get anywhere if Potter didn't do so.
Eventually Potter's muscles let all of the tension out and Draco surged forward, grazing his tongue over Potter's pink opening.
"Ow, shit!" Potter yelled, trying to get up but Draco wrapped his legs around Potter's shoulders, holding him there. "That's disgusting," he moaned, pushing his arse closer to Draco's face.
"I'm sure," Draco smirked, licking again. Potter's legs fell open more and he mewled low in his throat. He was so relaxed now that when Draco pushed his tongue into the hole Potter's body let it easily.
Draco moved his hips up, humping Potter's chest and trying to tell him without words to reiterate on him. Watching Potter's reaction made him excited to find out if it really was that good.
Timidly Potter stretched his neck and wrapped his lips around the rim of Draco's hole, his glasses poking Draco's thigh. Draco's legs fell off Potter's back and stretched out to the side, opening himself as far as possible. Tingles were zipping up his spine, making him gasp into Potter's arse. By the way he started bouncing his hard cock on Draco's chest, he liked the puffs of air.
Then Potter sucked and Draco pulled his head back to hit the floor. Ohfuckohshit! A tongue breached his opening, thrusting in and out in short jabs. Draco was reduced to a puddle. He shoved his tongue back up Potter's arse, sucking at the same time, and nearly came as Potter clenched his arse on every in thrust.
Sensations flew through Draco as Potter mumbled, tongue still lodged in and mouth wrapped around. God he couldn't breathe or think. Everything was sweet musky scent and quivering bottoms and sensation. A prolonged tensing of muscles was the only warning Draco got before Potter sunk his teeth into Draco's arse, and came long and hard. Draco shifted his hips, making those teeth graze his gaping hole and he spurted, head falling back and eyes closing.
Five minutes later Draco pushed a sleepy Harry off him and stared at the dark ceiling. Blearily he wondered if receiving a rimjob from someone constituted as the correct situation to start thinking of the other person with their first name.
It was so late that the room darkened to pitch-black. Or Draco fell asleep. He wasn't sure.
What woke him was the light. He wasn't used to it. In the dungeons sunlight never interrupted his sleep. He grumbled and turned over, wincing as his neck creaked. He must have slept on it wrong.
It wasn't until something hit him in the face that he wondered exactly why there was sunlight. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust enough before he could look around. He was lying on the dirty charms classroom floor, in the nude, Harry sprawled out beside him.
"Wha'?" Harry garbled. Draco glared at his hand, resting suspiciously close to his face. Draco hit Harry in the face. "Wha' that for?" Harry asked, sitting up straight.
"You hit me first."
Harry nodded, eyes closing and head falling forward.
"Oh shit!" Draco jumped up, shooting a glance at the door before gathering his clothes and dressing at lightning speed. "Quick, Potter. Do you have a watch? What time is it? Flitwick can walk in any second. Were there spells on the door?"
Harry blinked, staring in confusion at him. "It's morning," he spoke slowly.
Draco, irritated, bent down and looked Harry in the face. "Do you want Flitwick to walk in and find you in the nude with dried come on your chest?" He reached out and picked a flake off, letting it fall onto Harry's lap. Eww.
"Oh." But he closed his eyes and fell back on the floor. Draco threw his hands in the air and left, muttering, "It's your funeral."
After a quick shower to get rid of the disgusting flakes of crusted come he hurried into the Great Hall and took the empty spot beside Pansy. He glanced around, wondering if Harry was still in the Charms classroom, but he was sitting at the Gryffindor table, looking much like he had twenty minutes ago. His hair was very tousled, clothes creased, and a sleepy satisfied look about him. Not to mention it looked like there was come on his cheek.
A grin spread on Draco's face. Harry was so obvious.
Draco turned back to his plate and spread jam on his toast. A few bites and he realized everyone was looking at him. He swallowed his food and sneered. "What's your problem?"
Pansy grinned cheekily. "Where were you last night?" Blaise and Theodore leaned closer, their elbows almost in their food.
"Yeah," Theodore said. "And what's with you and Potter? We haven't heard you ramble about him for a few days."
"You sick?" Blaise joked.
Theodore continued, "Not to mention he keeps giving you odd looks."
Pansy's forehead creased. "But I thought Draco was getting some."
"With Potter?" Blaise laughed. "Yes, I'm sure they're helping each other get girls. They are probably fighting."
Draco wished the lot of them would shut up before they figured it out. It was his business what he was doing with Potter, not theirs. Briefly he wondered when it had changed. In the beginning he was all for telling them and having a good laugh over it. Of course, he hadn't expected to get so...wrapped up in it all.
"You don't look like you were fighting," Vincent said. Gregory gazed closely at him, deemed Vincent correct, and turned back to his mountain of food. Draco frowned; they were supposed to be on his side.
"Oh my god!" Pansy yelled, staring in horror at Draco. "You're shagging Po--"
Draco clamped a hand over her mouth. "That's disgusting," he growled. Blaise raised his eyebrows as if to ask about his reaction. "I don't want you yelling something like that. Ruin my reputation." She nodded, eyes wide and he removed his hand.
Pansy opened her mouth but Gregory and Vincent cracked their knuckled threateningly and she quieted, exchanging significant glances with Blaise and Theodore. For the rest of the day they kept a close eye on Draco.
It was four days after the incident at breakfast that Draco had been able to escape his friends, find Harry, and start another lesson. Their fourth lesson, four days after the last one. For some reason that amused Draco.
"So, what's it this time?" Harry asked, shifting uneasily.
Draco grinned, pulling out his wand and eyeing Harry. He'd had this lesson planned out for the past two days, after having overheard some gay fifth year talking about gay sex. He was curious. "I'm going to fuck you with my wand." Shit. That didn't come out the way he wanted. What happened to his pre planned approach which sounded much better?
Harry blanched, staring in horror at his wand. But then he laughed. "You're kidding, right? How would that help me with shagging girls?"
Draco scowled. "Scared, Potter?"
"No!" He crossed his arms defiantly and pursed his lips. "I just don't see why it's necessary."
Draco sighed irritably. "It's common knowledge that you can't properly fuck someone unless you've been fucked."
Harry seemed to mull that over before he scowled. "Apparently not common knowledge." He started removing his clothes and Draco smiled. There should be a professional job of bullshitting. He'd be good at that. Then again, isn't that what his father had done before he landed himself in Azkaban?
Pants dropped to the floor and Draco was staring at Harry's bare arse. The summer after fifth year he had come to terms that it wasn't really Harry's fault, but he could make it be if he wanted.
"So you've been fucked?" Harry asked when they both fell to their knees. Draco stopped looking contemplatingly at his wand and gave Harry a strange look. "Well, if you're going to be...to me and you said you can't properly unless you've already been..."
"That's really none of your business." And it wasn't like Harry would be able to tell if he knew what he was doing or not. Before Harry could protest he grabbed the brunet's neck and pulled him into a kiss. Once Harry appeared dazed enough to have forgotten his train of thought Draco pulled away.
"Now," Draco started. Harry blinked rapidly at him. "I'm going to show you how to prep a bloke for penetration. Of course, a girl preps herself but I don't know," he gave Harry a cheeky grin, "maybe you'll fuck a bloke sometime."
Harry spared a roll of his eyes but the rest of his attention was on Draco's wand.
"Back or knees, you're choice," Draco commanded, removing his robes and sliding a bottle of lotion out. Tentatively Harry moved on his back, legs bent awkwardly together. Draco licked his lips and spread his legs apart. "You need to relax. It won't hurt if you relax." Hopefully; the fifth year had been rather vague.
But Harry couldn't relax. He screwed his eyes shut, stomach and thighs so tense they convulsed when Draco touched them. Draco leaned over him, connecting their lips. Lazily he flicked a tongue over Harry's lips before another tongue joined him. Slowly, so slowly, Harry loosened beneath him.
Draco sat up to open the bottle and squirt a large amount on his left hand. The scent of peaches filled the classroom. Draco kissed him again, wiping his hand on the surprisingly warm floor to remove some lotion, then swirled a finger over Harry's arsehole. The other boy arched up, probably remembering their previous rimming.
Draco slid a finger in, slightly put off by the fact that it was harder to shove in than his tongue had been. By the time half his finger was in, Harry's lips turned slack and he stiffened.
"Shh," Draco urged, fluttering his lips over Harry's neck. Harry wasn't calming so Draco just pushed forward, burying his finger in as far as possible and pulling out. After a few thrusts Harry's legs open wider and it became easier.
Another finger joined the first one and Harry pushed down on them, something Draco didn't catch falling from his lips. Draco stopped moving his hand and sat, marveling at the sight laid out below him. Harry's hands curled around his robes wrinkled on the floor next to him, and he kept shifting up and down, fucking himself on Draco's fingers. It was so orgasmic. Surreptitiously Draco pressed his pulsating erection into Harry's shin, making him pause and lock eyes with Draco.
"That's good," Draco gasped, removing his fingers. Harry hissed. "Now, the wand." He looked around and wiped his fingers on Harry's leg to remove the peach lotion, then grabbed his wand and dipped it in the small pile of lotion.
Harry's hips rose and Draco pushed the wand in at the same time he latched onto Harry's nipple. He swirled his tongue and moved the wand in and out brutally. Suddenly Harry shivered, a stream of hisses falling forth. Draco stared at him. He was speaking parseltongue. "What'd you say?"
"Huh?" Harry asked, looking down his body curiously. Draco shook his head absently. Didn't Harry know he had spoken it? "What was that?"
"What?" Draco moved the wand, making Harry shiver again. A grin grew and Draco kept pounding it in and out at the same direction.
Harry was thrashing beneath him, legs curling around Draco's waist to crash him down. "More. I need more," he said between parseltongue.
"Where's your wand?" Draco asked, eyes searching. Finally he found it poking out of Harry's trousers. He grabbed it, dipped it in the lotion, and moved to join it with his own but stopped short. God, Harry looked so hot lying there with a wand sticking out of his arse. Draco's cock hurt. He'd never let an erection go this long.
A moment of blunder and he had both of the wands moving together. Soon Harry was arching below him and coming, low husky hisses filling the room. Draco followed soon after, getting his pants once again. He would have felt embarrassed but Harry was lying there, panting heavily, and two wands half up his arse, which still looked hot to Draco, and really, he looked funnier. Right?
"I need to get going. Transfiguration homework." Draco stood and searched for his wand, then remembered it was still up Harry's bum. How was he going to look at his wand again without thinking of Harry's arse? He grabbed both and pulled them out swiftly. Harry groaned, eyes closed.
Draco used Harry's to Scourgify his own then cleaned his clothes. He went to drop Harry's lotion coated wand but just stared at Harry. He had two wand and Harry had none, lain out vulnerable below him. He could do anything and Harry wouldn't know what hit him. Draco dropped the wand and it landed on Harry's chest.
Harry needed to be more careful. All the Dark Lord had to do was get someone to shag him and he'd be a goner.
But it wasn't like Draco cared.
The players soured above the pitch and Draco was severely bored. Gryffindor was winning, of course. They were playing Hufflepuff for god's sake. If they were doing anything but winning Draco would be surprised beyond belief.
"Look at that," Blaise laughed, pointing towards Hufflepuff's goalposts. Draco watched as the small blob that was Harry and the other that was Bones fly dangerously close, tailing after each other so much they threatened to collide. Blaise cut his laughter short and gave Draco an odd look. "So what Pansy says it true then?"
Draco's brow creased. What was Blaise going on about?
"About you and Potter." He jerked his head at the pitch. "You pretty much just gave them your best glare ever. And I've seen quite a few good ones."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Draco answered, ending the conversation. He was mildly concerned that it appeared like he cared so much, because he didn't.
Something shimmery caught his eye. The snitch was hovering right behind Harry's head. Draco almost laughed. Almost. Harry was still talking to Bones and didn't even notice it. The bitch. He wasn't sure which one of them he was talking about.
It wasn't until Bones lurched forward that Harry realized the snitch was practically attached to his windswept hair. He managed to grab it before Bones but he appeared to be regretful. Draco smirked. That would show him.
Twenty minutes later found Draco stalling outside the Quidditch locker rooms. He shifted from foot to foot, warming his body up. It was absolutely cold. The area was empty, everyone having raced back to the school the moment the game announced Hufflepuff's defeat. Yet here he was, standing in the cold, waiting.
All he wanted to do was brag to Harry about how he almost lost the game because of the chubby redhead. Maybe he would set up the next lesson. The last lesson. Oh. Maybe he would put it off. What was he saying? Apparently his bullshitting skills ended with other people because he wasn't fooling himself. Bones couldn't have Harry. Harry was...his.
He should just turn around and head into the warmth of the castle. He should, but he didn't. His feet carried him into the locker rooms. Hopefully he encountered no one. Of course, if he did he could just swear under the pretense of riling Harry up. They would believe that.
Unfortunately -- because he really felt he should be stopped -- no one was around. Two showers were going and Draco peered through the bubbled glass, only able to make out blotches of colour. He didn't know which one was Harry and he didn't want to get the wrong one so he should just lea -- the one had his trademark glasses hanging out of the Quidditch robes.
Abruptly the shower on the far left shut off. Draco eased Harry's shower door open and slipped in, covering Harry's gaping mouth with a hand. But Harry seemed unable to speak.
"What are you doing?" Harry hissed just below the pitch of the streaming water the moment Draco moved his hand.
Draco was busy looking at his robes. They were soaked, pasted to his skin, and heavy. He looked at Harry and his brain stopped working. God he looked fantastic with water dribbling down every inch of his skin. "The last lesson," Draco gasped, completely forgetting about his previous plan. What had it been?
Harry didn't seem to keen on it so Draco set to convincing him. Plus he just really needed to touch Harry. He trailed his fingers down Harry's chest, trying to think of what to do for the last lesson. Something drastic, something fun.
"Oh my god!" a voice yelled from outside the shower. Harry groaned and let his head hit the tiled wall, water falling into his eyes. "Harry, do you have Susan in there?"
Draco groaned too. It was Weasley.
"Erm, no one Ron," Harry said, glaring at the glass door, then at Draco as if it was his fault. If anything it was Harry fault for being friends with the weasel.
Weasley laughed loudly. "Don't lie to me. I can see two people are in there. Unless you're holding a pair of robes. Whoa! Susan must have been in a hurry."
Draco buried his face in Harry's neck and sucked before moving towards his ear. He whispered, "Forget about him." But Harry must have a problem with doing anything when his friend was so near because he pushed Draco away irritably. Draco huffed and turned to the glass door. If Harry was going to be a prat about it, he would too.
Making his voice slightly deeper he called out, "It's not Bones."
"Stupid idiot!" Harry yelled at the same time Weasley questioned, "Er, Harry?"
Draco burst out in laughter. Harry's face was hilarious. Oh, how was he going to get out of this one? Draco was eager to see.
"Nothing, Ron," Harry called, turning the water warmer. "She's being an idiot, likes messing with people heads."
"Oh," Weasley said hesitantly.
Draco, on the other hand, was appalled. "She?" he squeaked, wishing Gregory and Vincent were there so he could command them to beat Harry into a bloody pulp. "I'm not a fucking girl!"
Nervous laughter traveled through the glass door. "I see what you mean." Draco's jaw dropped. Was the blood traitor trying to say he sounded like a girl?
"Well if that's the way you feel," Draco hissed, taking the two steps to the shower door and grabbing the handle, intent of getting as far away from Harry as possible.
Harry jumped forward and slammed Draco against the glass door, kissing him harshly. That's when Draco remembered Weasley was out there. Shit, he almost blew it. But Harry's tongue was soothing and in his mouth and well, who cared if the whole world was out there. As long as they didn't see anything. They could keep quiet.
As quick as he could he shrugged his robes off and peeled away the rest of his clothes, letting them drop to their feet.
"I'm going to shag you," Draco moaned, sliding a finger down Harry's crack. The other boy moved into the touch, hissing in parseltongue.
"Wait!" Harry gasped, pushing away. Draco slumped against the wall, watching Harry's every movement through heavy-lidded eyes. He shined from the water and Draco wanted to lick him. So he did. Harry's hands tangled in Draco's hair as Draco laved his navel. It was so hot with the steam and water and heat coming off their bodies.
"Sh-shouldn't I shag you?" Draco broke away and looked at Harry in confusion. He was the teacher here, not Harry. "I mean, I've already been...penetrated so wouldn't this show if I can do it? Since it's our last lesson and all."
Draco couldn't defy that logic. Well, he could if he wanted to but god he was so horny and wanted to get off right now. He jumped up on Harry's waist, forcing the Gryffindor to lean against the wall. They were directly underneath the showerhead so the water streamed right past Draco's back. He wasn't sure if that was good or not. He wanted to feel the water running between them but it was already hot enough.
Cautiously Harry grabbed Draco's arse and eased a finger up. Draco froze against the intrusion. Now he understood why Harry had done what he did before.
"Relax," Harry mocked, biting down on Draco earlobe. Draco melted. Who knew his ears were so sensitive? With the attention on his ears he didn't realize what Harry was doing behind him until a slick cock pushed through the outside muscles. Ouch!
"What the fuck are you doing?" Draco yelped, digging his heels into the small of Harry's back.
Harry gave a tiny thrust then wailed, "I don't know! What you did with the wands. I used shampoo, to ease entry."
Frustrated that it hurt so much -- Harry hadn't made that big of a fuss with the wands, granted they had been skinnier -- Draco unhooked his legs, only succeeding in sheathing Harry's cock the whole way in. Quickly he wrapped his legs around, afraid to move at all.
Harry hissed, the syllables catching Draco's attention. Did the prat always speak parseltongue when getting fucked or fucking? That was rather interesting. Harry hips moved and Draco bit into his shoulder, growling, "Don't you fucking move unless it's to get out. No, wait, don't do that! I'll move."
"It's so...tight," Harry whispered.
Draco snapped, "Well, I'm glad one of us is enjoying ourselves."
Neither of them moved for the next minute, just resting their foreheads together, breaths evening slowly. The pain was either subsiding or he was getting used to it. Either way he didn't want to move, even though his legs were cramping from holding his weight in such a strange position.
"I thought you've done this before," Harry said.
Draco stared at him. He could try bullshitting his way out of it. Only, what was he going to say? "No, okay, I never have! The most I've ever done was snog Pansy."
Harry regarded him silently before saying, "It'll get better. If I can hit that spot you'll see stars, I swear."
"Spot?" Was Harry bullshitting him now? But Harry nodded eagerly and pulled out halfway, making Draco clench. "I told you, I'm moving."
When it looked like Harry was going to try moving again Draco did. He moved quickly, hoping it would make the pain less, but could barely move more than an inch. He looked around and spotted the showerhead above them, at the perfect length. Carefully he let go of Harry and grabbed onto the showerhead, using it for leverage.
He just kept moving up and down, working through the pain. Eventually it was just a dull throb and Harry was a mess, streams of hisses issuing forth at a speed impossible to speak in English. But it didn't feel good. Harry must have been bullshitting. The asshole.
Draco lifted up so Harry's cock slipped the whole was out of him then plundered down. Holyfuckingmerlin! There was a spot. Now that he found it his cock grew. Every rub against Harry's stomach sent heat down his spine. And he kept lifting in such a speed that the showerhead bent, raining warm water on their heated bodies.
Harry's hands clumsily fisted his cock and he came, clenching his arse. Harry shot right after him, his hisses so loud Draco wouldn't have been surprised if everyone in Hogwarts could hear.
They sunk to the tiled floor. Draco absently watched their come mingle with the water and cling to his robes, which were clogging the drain. Harry pulled out of him, his flaccid cock slapping the accumulating water. Draco stayed sitting on Harry's lap, catching his breath.
He'd had sex with another bloke. And it was Harry and in the Quidditch shower rooms and he loved it. He closed his eyes against the on slaughter of emotions. He wasn't supposed to feel emotions because it was just lessons and Harry didn't feel them.
"Mhmm, tha' was good," Harry murmured, placing a sloppy kiss on Draco's collarbone.
Eventually the warming spells on the water wore off and they were forced to retreat into the warmth of the changing area. Harry stopped short, causing Draco to ram into him.
"What's that about?" he asked, peering over Harry's shoulder. Weasley was standing awkwardly in front of the lockers, his face pained.
"Malfoy," Weasley whined while Harry scrambled for bathrobes and tossed one at Draco, who caught it fluidly and slipped it on. This was just great. "Why him?"
Completely ignoring Draco, Harry rushed over to his friend. "No, see, it was just lessons. I mean, we're not dating or anything."
Draco felt his stomach plummet and he hated himself for it. He stalked out of the small building, their voices swimming in his head.
"But what about Susan?"
"It was our last lesson anyway."
And Draco had thought Harry was the one falling for him.
A week after the last lesson and Draco was immune to Harry. He didn't talk to him, didn't think about him (except for all the god damn time, even though he didn't want to), and surely didn't want to see him ever again. Yet he couldn't resort back to thinking about him as Potter. He should never have started the lessons. Of course everything would backfire on him. Life hated him.
Gregory was busy sleeping on his arm, drool dribbling out, so Draco was forced to get the ingredients for the potion. He was the last one to go for them because he'd spent the past five minutes trying to wake Gregory.
The musky smell invaded his senses and he quickly set to finding everything. Aconite, boomslang skin, fluxweed, and newt toes. Where was the Murtlap essence?
"Looking for this?" a voice asked. Draco turned around to find Harry leaning against the door jam, glass bottle between two fingers. Draco gave him an irritated look. Déjà vu. Hadn't this happened before? It was how everything had happened.
"Look, Draco," Harry started, and then took a deep breath. "A few days ago I had a date with Susan."
"So." Draco raised his eyebrows. Did Harry want him to offer congratulations?
Harry huffed and set the bottle on the nearest shelf. He tapped his fingers on his robes. "It, well, sucked."
Draco couldn't contain a smile.
"I, erm, think I need more lessons." He grinned nervously and pushed the bridge of his glasses up. Draco regarded him closely. He should say no and see what Harry's reaction would be. That would be fun. Instead he found himself saying, "First five lessons are free. After that it'll cost you."
Harry looked wary. "What will it cost me?"
The air between them seemed to tingle with tension as Draco moved closer and placed one hand on either side of Harry's head, backing him against the shelves. "First off, I don't want to contract any diseases so while the lessons are in session you will be having no sexual contact whatsoever with anyone but me."
"That's doable," Harry whispered, sliding his hands between the clasps of Draco's robes and under his shirt. Harry's hands were cold on Draco's stomach and he shivered, leaning in closer.
Truth be told, he was surprised by Harry's reply. "What about Bones?"
"I already broke up with her."
"Oh. What about Weasley? And Granger?" Draco wanted to hit himself. Was he trying to find a reason for Harry to disagree? Although, maybe it was best to not start anything if Harry was going to back out after Draco developed more feelings.
"They don't have to know, do they?" He traced circled around Draco's navel. His fingers weren't as cold as before. "And I don't care if they find out." He frowned, thinking it over.
Draco wedged a leg between Harry's thighs and nipped at his ear, remembering how sensitive his own were. He whispered, "What about the fact that I'm a Slytherin and a Death Eater's son, and you're a Gryffindor, the boy-who-lived."
Harry whipped his head to look Draco in the eyes. "I don't care about that. I think I," he dropped his gaze, "might be in love with you."
Laughter bubbled up inside Draco. He clamped his mouth shut though, not wanting Snape or any of their fellow students to hear and investigate. Harry seemed to get his message though because he pouted his lips, giving Draco a hurt look. Oh fuck, he was serious.
"You don't know that for sure." There was still a large grin on his face so he buried it in Harry's neck, taking the opportunity to sniff him. He smelled good, like soap and skin and warmth.
Harry's hands moved to Draco's back, short nails scraping softly. "You can't change what I think."
"I wouldn't try."
"And I'm going to change how you feel for me." There was a determined look in Harry's eyes when Draco pulled away to raise an eyebrow at him.
"You can try." Draco kissed him, rolling their tongues together. By the way things had already gone, he didn't think Harry would have such a hard time.