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hpkinkfestTitle: Draco Malfoy's Big Surprise
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
faithwood
My own prompt: Library sex.
Kink Showcased: Object penetration.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, Unidentified Conjured Object/Draco
Summary: This is a story about Draco Malfoy innocently sitting in the library, studying. And then unexpected ConjuredObject!penetration happens. So, basically, it's a classic 'whodunit' sort of plot.
Content Notes/Warnings: Surprise object penetration. The object is obviously conjured by someone, so consent is problematic. But Draco has a good time. Also, porno movie type title. But I guess it's too late to warn for that. >.>
Word Count: ~3,800
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. No copyright infringement intended.
Author's Notes: A huge thank you to my betas,marguerite_26 and dysonrules. And Maggie, you're a lifesaver! ♥_♥
Draco Malfoy's Big Surprise
Sometimes, if rarely, Draco questioned his judgment. When he had signed up for the History of Magic N.E.W.T. class, he believed it to be a stroke of wisdom. Not many people bothered with history, which made it easy to use it to one's advantage. A timely reference to a historical event had a way of impressing the impressionable and piquing the interest of an individual who thought himself clever.
However, imagined future conversations allowing him to flaunt his knowledge aside, Draco doubted that knowing how many children Babayaga ate for breakfast would be of much use to him after Hogwarts. A waste of time like many other lessons he endured.
Brow creased, Draco made a grudging note on his parchment. The story of Babayaga had soured his mood. A turn of page revealed there was much more of it to be had, complete with graphic images of the old hag preparing lunch.
Draco contemplated stabbing himself in the eye.
"What was that?" Pansy asked, too loud as ever. Half the library looked her way.
"Hush, child," Madam Pince scolded from her post. She scowled at Pansy and Pansy scowled right back.
Draco's right shoulder was rudely bumped as Pansy leaned closer. Ink splattered over Draco's notes, obscuring the number of eaten children.
"Did you hear it?" Pansy's tone was low this time.
"Hear what?" Draco touched the tip of his wand to the ink stain but then changed his mind and let it be. Perhaps he was not meant to remember this piece of information. It was safely tucked away beneath the splatter, and that was where it should stay. "The voices in your head?" he asked. "Pretty sure they were talking to you. Remember, though." He gave Pansy a mock-stern stare. "Let them talk but never talk back."
The punch that attempted to dislocate his shoulder was expected but nonetheless painful.
"Idiot." Pansy huffed. "I heard a whooshing sound. Did no one else hear it? Blaise?" She turned to glare at the opposite side of the desk where Blaise was busy colour coding his notes.
Blaise didn't look up when he said, "Perhaps it was the whooshing sound of knowledge fleeing your head."
Pansy looked heavenward. "I need new friends," she concluded.
"Try Potter," Blaise said, quite randomly. "I think he heard your whooshing sound."
Draco's gaze snapped to Potter's desk. Potter quickly looked down at his book, but Draco had already caught him staring. Nosy bastard. Always hoping to witness a Slytherin misdemeanour.
"I know what I heard." Pansy returned to her scribbles, abusing her quill, apparently trying to tear the parchment before her to pieces rather than write.
Draco patted her back. "I'm sure you did. Don't mind Blaise. He's just upset because he can't sit with his secret girlfriend."
That made Blaise look up. His glare would have been impressive if the effect wasn't spoiled by sparkly pink charms, emitted by his wand, which marked the important sections on his notes. "I don't have a girlfriend." Blaise's tone carried a note of warning.
Pansy snorted. "I think Luna Lovegood might disagree." She seemed to consider her statement. "Or perhaps not. Knowing her, she might have forgotten she has a boyfriend."
Blaise looked horrified. He stared at Draco. "You told Pansy?"
"Oh, darling!" Pansy laughed. "No one tells me anything. I simply know things." Her expression seemed to soften in light of Blaise's obvious distress. "Don’t look so worried. I told everyone it's a big secret, so you can continue to enjoy the thrills of a secret relationship because everyone's lips are sealed. In fact, I encourage you to keep this a secret. And never invite her to come sit with us." Pansy frowned at the back of the library where Luna was sitting beside Ginny Weasley, humming quietly to herself and distractedly waving her wand, painting strands of her hair silver.
Blaise followed Pansy's gaze, pursed his lips, then refocused on his studies. "I'm the one who needs new friends," he said. His sparkly pink charms turned silver, whether intentionally or accidentally, Draco had no idea.
He was about to tease Blaise for it, but the words froze in his throat.
Something brushed against his balls. But it couldn't have. He was fully dressed, sitting in a library, for fuck's sake. No one could possibly reach his balls. He squirmed. The chair was old and it creaked, undoubtedly drawing attention. Draco didn't look up to check. He stared at his notes instead.
"Are you all right?"
"Mmm." Draco flashed a quick smile in Pansy's direction. "Just busy. Loads to learn."
Draco's breath hitched. There it was again. A feather-light touch, barely there.
Pansy gave him a worried look but then returned to her essay.
Draco tried squirming again, carefully. It didn't help; it made things worse. Something cold and smooth pressed against his balls. Draco thought he had imagined it, but then it moved, caressing, fondling, like a hand that wasn't there. As though he was being fondled by something invisible.
Draco blinked, then looked at Potter again. The moment he did, he realised how ridiculous his conclusion was. Not only was Potter right there in plain sight, so he couldn't have been under Draco's desk beneath his Invisibility Cloak, but Potter was unlikely to fondle Draco in any case.
Potter looked up, straight at Draco, and Draco looked away, embarrassed by his thoughts. Whatever was touching his balls, it was not a hand. It didn't feel like a hand and a hand couldn't reach him through layers of clothing.
It was a spell. It must have been. One that had been cast a minute ago when Pansy had heard a whooshing sound. It was someone's stupid prank.
Cheeks heating up in anger, Draco reached for his wand. He waved it casually, as though pointing at his notes, but he aimed at his crotch instead. Finite Incantatem, he thought.
It was the wrong thing to do. The cool object in his pants turned warm and it slithered past his balls, lower and lower still, wriggling its way between Draco's buttocks. Draco stopped breathing. It wriggled, twisted, poked, then pressed firmly against his anus. Draco stilled in shock. It stayed there, solid and threatening. It wouldn't stop wriggling.
"I need..." A bathroom, he meant to say, but as he tried to rise, he realised he couldn't. He simply couldn't detach himself from the chair, as though his arse was glued to it.
"What?" Pansy asked, ever so helpful.
Draco glanced at her, which was a horrible thing to do. Here he was, looking at his childhood friend, while his anus was being caressed, teased, molested. "Er..." It took him moments to understand Pansy's questions. "I need more parchment," he said at last. The pressure against his pucker increased; it was pushing inside. Draco drew in a sharp breath. It pulled out, only caressing again. Draco exhaled.
Pansy's eyebrows rose high. "There's a whole stack of parchment in front of you."
It pushed inside again and pulled out. And then it did it again, and again, teasing. Draco shuddered. "Right." He looked at the desk. "Forgot."
"And they tell me I'm odd," Pansy muttered, shaking her head.
It pushed in deeper, stayed inside him longer; its presence was disturbing, strange, too intimate, and weirdly satisfying. Draco tried to get up, but he couldn't. His forehead was sweaty; he was getting hard.
Jaw clenched, he looked around. Whoever was doing this, they'd be sorry.
Ridiculous or not, Draco's gaze was drawn to Potter like a magnet. Potter shouldn't have been his suspect. Especially not his first suspect. Or his only suspect. Potter was sitting some ten feet away, sharing a desk with Granger and Weasley. He looked oddly studious, very still, staring down at his book. One of his hands was on the desk, the other hidden from view. On his lap, perhaps, or resting on his thigh.
The thing inside Draco struggled to push upwards, inching deeper, insistent and unyielding. Just when it became too much, it pulled out again. It was expanding, Draco realised. It must have been fixed to the chair together with Draco, growing upwards then shrinking again.
Potter looked sideways and caught Draco staring. Green eyes studied Draco curiously. Was Potter blushing? Draco thought he might be. It was hard to tell. It was hot in the library and Potter's skin was pale.
Potter squirmed in his chair and looked away. He was definitely blushing; his cheeks were pink.
The object, the toy, pushed up. Draco nearly yelped. It was thicker now, warmer, bolder, stroking slowly inside, as a lover might with his fingers.
Potter glanced at Draco again, so quickly Draco would have missed it if he hadn't been staring. Potter seemed unable to stop squirming, as though uncomfortable. Then his eyelashes fluttered and he grimaced. His hand was still hidden beneath the desk, and Draco suddenly couldn't breathe.
Potter was the one doing this. But it couldn't have been. Why would he do it? What sort of prank was this? Unless...
The blush on Potter's cheeks deepened. He squirmed in his chair again.
Sweet Merlin. A shock of pleasure made Draco clench around the toy. It had to have been Potter. Potter was fucking him. He was sitting not far away, not touching Draco at all, not even looking at him, but still fucking him. And getting off on it. Blushing and squirming because he was aroused, possibly touching himself, too.
"Draco, darling, are you all right?"
The toy was getting bigger, stretching, burning, and stroking something inside him that made the edges of his vision blurry. He was painfully hard. He'd reach down and stroke himself, but Pansy kept staring at him.
And she had asked a question. And he didn't reply.
Draco tried to focus. "Fine," he managed. His voice shook. He heard it shake; Pansy must have heard it, too. She was still staring. "It's just..." Draco squirmed. "Babayaga ate quite a lot of children. It's upsetting." He was so full. Filled with something he couldn't see, in the middle of the library, surrounded by students. He knew it was an irrational thought, but he was afraid someone might look at him and guess. Guess he was sitting there getting fucked by a toy. Potter's toy. Guess he was indecently stuffed with it in broad daylight.
"It is?" Pansy frowned. "But they were Muggle children, Draco," she added because she never learned not to voice dangerous opinions.
It was even bigger now. It was huge. It would open him too wide, split him in half. That should have been terrifying, and it was, but Draco's cock was throbbing. He gasped.
"Er," Pansy said.
"But children, Pansy!" Draco cried. "Muggle or not. Poor things." He wished Pansy would shut up and look away.
Pansy snorted. "Louder, Draco. I don't think Potter heard you."
Draco froze. "What?" The toy was twitching inside him; he wanted to twitch with it.
Pansy clicked her tongue impatiently. "If you were hoping Potter heard you worrying about poor Muggles, I don't think he did."
"Oh," Draco said, then added, "Oh!" as the toy hit that spot again. It was hard to keep his eyes open. "Why would I hope—"
Pansy rolled her eyes, said, "Whatever," and turned away.
Draco's hands clenched into fists. He leaned forward, hoping it looked like he was studying. He was studying. He was studying Potter out of the corner of his eye. Potter's bottom lip was between his teeth. He stared blankly at his desk, still squirming, still flushed.
The toy inside Draco was thrusting up slowly. It couldn't move properly, not with Draco sitting down. He was desperate to roll his hips, desperate to reach down and touch himself. His eyes fell closed. He imagined Potter behind him, imagined Potter's cock fucking him, not his toy. The thought was pleasant, but it wasn't enough. He couldn't come like this. He needed something. He needed...
Oh. Draco shuddered. The toy began to vibrate.
A touch on Draco's shoulder startled him so violently he jumped. Lights exploded in front of his eyes when the toy slammed deeper inside him, when he slammed down on the toy. Merlin, that felt good. He was tempted to jump up again, but that would not have gone unnoticed.
"Draco, darling..." Pansy retreated her hand. She sounded worried. "Maybe you should stop reading about Babayaga if it upsets you that much. She was punished for her crimes, you know. The story has a happy ending."
Draco couldn't look at her. He nodded. "Yes, I know. It's... God, yes." The vibrations curled around his prostate, getting stronger, spreading inside him, reaching his balls, his cock, his thighs. It was too much, too intense. Draco's eyes watered.
He heard Blaise whisper something unintelligible and Pansy whispered back. She said something about Draco, about the Dark Lord and possible traumas. He couldn't even bring himself to care. Nothing existed except the vibrating toy and Potter, sitting there, knowing Draco was helplessly trapped by the pleasure he was giving him.
The world spun as Draco squeezed his eyes shut and gave in to the feeling. He thought Pansy might have said something, asked, "Can you hear a buzzing sound?" and Blaise might have slammed his book, called them insufferable and left.
None of it mattered. Draco's body was strung tight, every muscle clenched in anticipation. He forced his eyes open to look at Potter again. Potter's neck was bent; Draco thought he might be shivering, or maybe there was something wrong with Draco's eyes. He could feel the vibrations spread through his body, consuming him. His ears were ringing.
A sudden wave of pleasure threatened to push a cry past his lips. Draco clenched his jaw, refused to let it out. The chair creaked as he came. He suspected everyone heard it. He hoped Potter did. He hoped Potter was watching him, stroking himself through his trousers and coming into his pants at the sight of Draco twitching in his chair.
"Would you like some water?"
Draco opened his eyes. His face, pulled into a tight grimace, felt numb. The light was blinding, the air was scarce, he was still shivery. The toy inside him stopped moving; it shrank, then disappeared. Draco felt empty.
"Some tea? A biscuit?"
Draco turned towards Pansy. Her eyes were very wide. He felt moisture on his cheeks; sweat or tears, he had no idea.
"Er, I..." A movement to his left caught Draco's attention. Potter was gathering his notes. Then he stood up and threw his schoolbag over his shoulder. He was leaving.
"Water. Yes." Draco stood up. The chair didn't stop him, his shaky thighs almost did. "Great idea, Pansy." His pants were sticky and there was a wet spot on his trousers. His Hogwarts robes mercifully hid the mess. "Wait here," he added when Pansy rose up, as though to follow him.
Draco didn't wait to see if Pansy would do as he asked; he rushed after Potter, who had already exited the library, seemingly in a great hurry.
Draco burst outside, breathless. He was sore and flushed, but ignored it all in favour of looking around wildly for any sign of Potter. He found him in the next corridor, hurrying towards the stairs.
"Potter!"
Potter walked faster.
"Wait!" Draco sprinted forwards, acutely aware of the sticky, cooling mess in his pants.
Potter stopped and turned, hesitating. "What?" he asked when Draco reached him. He looked nervous. He looked flushed. He looked kissable. Draco's mind lingered on the last thought.
"Er," Potter said, all green eyes and black hair and full lips parted in bemusement.
Draco had no idea what he had planned to do once Potter stood before him — well, maybe he had sort of planned to punch him — but he knew what he wanted to do now. So he did it.
He grabbed Potter's shoulders, pushed him against the wall and kissed him.
Potter didn't struggle, possibly too surprised to react, but he made a sound in his throat, as though he was choking, as though he was outraged. The nerve of him.
Draco forced his tongue into Potter's mouth. A giddy, warm feeling settled in his stomach and stayed there. He was kissing Potter. At last.
Potter's palm was on Draco's chest, pushing him away. Draco licked Potter's lips, memorising their shape, and pulled back, but only a little. He was still close enough to feel Potter's warm breath on his lips and see every dark eyelash framing Potter's shocked green eyes.
"What are you —?"
Draco silenced Potter by reaching down to palm his crotch. "You want to push something inside me, Potter," Draco said, hand stroking, "you can try that." He squeezed Potter's cock through layers of clothing. Potter wasn't hard, but he felt like a handful.
Potter's eyes rounded. Draco was sure Potter had stopped breathing.
"And you can do it tonight," Draco added. "Meet me on the East tower after midnight."
"Er," Potter said, ever so eloquent. He looked around in confusion, as though expecting someone to jump from behind the corner.
Draco heard distant laughter. It was drawing closer. Their private moment wouldn't last forever.
"Say you'll be there, Potter," Draco whispered urgently, fingers curling. He kissed Potter again. Potter didn't respond, but he didn't stop the kiss, either. He was so warm and pliant and Potterish, Draco was getting hard again. "Merlin, Potter, you’re an utter pervert."
He felt Potter's body stiffen. "I... Um."
Draco spoke against Potter's lips. "You're lucky that I'm one, too. And I love to return favours."
Potter shivered. He blinked, gaze fixed on Draco's eyes. He bit his lip, licked it, shifted his weight, then opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
Eyes open, Draco kissed him again, just a slow touch of lips. "You'll be there. Say it," he said, possibly begged.
"I..." Potter drew in a shuddering breath. "All right?"
The world titled. When it returned into focus, Draco realised he was grinning, and Potter, still looking ridiculously shocked, was giving him a tentative smile.
"God, Malfoy." Potter laughed a little; it sounded nervous. He pushed Draco's stroking hand away. "You're very... forward."
Draco stared. "I'm forward?"
Someone laughed again. Any second now students would burst into the corridor.
Draco released Potter's shoulders and forced his feet to move backwards. Merlin. Why did he ask for a midnight meeting? They could go somewhere now.
A group of sixth years appeared, heading towards them, and Draco took another step backwards. "See you later, Potter," he said, grinning like an idiot. He turned to leave.
Potter grabbed his wrist and stopped him.
"I agreed to meet you," Potter said. "Not to..." He cleared his throat. "Well. This is just a bit sudden for me; I'm sure you understand. So... We could go out flying, or something."
Draco stared at him; Potter's palm seemed to burn through his wrist.
Potter's behaviour was senseless. Well, senseless for someone who had fucked Draco with a magical toy earlier. For someone who had not fucked Draco with a magical toy earlier, but who had been randomly ambushed in a corridor and offered sex...
Merlin.
But no. It had to have been Potter. All that blushing and squirming. And staring. Admittedly, Draco had been staring at Potter quite a bit and Potter might have simply stared back in confusion, but Draco didn't imagine the flush on Potter's cheek, the restlessness, the way he was falling forward in his chair, eyes glazed.
The sixth years passed them by and rounded the corner. Potter squeezed Draco's wrist, leaned in, and brushed his lips against Draco's.
"I'm looking forward to tonight," Potter said, in a way that suggested he was surprised by his own admission. His green gaze searched Draco's face. He shook his head and released Draco's wrist. "And now," he added. "I have to go get some Pepperup. Been feeling feverish the whole day. I don't want to be sick tonight, do I?" Potter smiled. "You should probably get some, too. After all, we kissed..." Potter closed his mouth suddenly, as though he just realised they had truly kissed and was shocked all over again. He scratched the back of his head. "You don't owe me any favours, you know. For the..." He looked uncomfortable. "For what happened in the Room of Requirement back then. I'd do it again in a heartbeat." He frowned. "And this..." He waved his hand between them. "Isn't perverted. Not even close," he said firmly. He hesitated for another moment, then smiled, said, "Er, well, see you," and walked away. He turned to look back at Draco a few times, eyes wide, before he disappeared behind the corner.
Draco was frozen on the spot; the word feverish echoed in his mind, mocking him.
"Better?"
Draco spun around. "Merlin, Pansy. Don't sneak up on me."
Pansy stood behind him, wand in hand; their schoolbags floated beside her. "Oh, Draco, you don't look well." She felt his forehead with her free hand. "Maybe you're coming down with something. I heard there's a nasty flu going around. Some Pepperup might help."
Draco clenched his jaw.
"I'm fine," he said. He didn't need Pepperup. He needed a shower and a change of clothes. He needed to stop the frantic spinning of his thoughts.
Draco nodded at the floating schoolbags. "Aren't we waiting for Blaise?"
"No." Pansy huffed, cancelled the Levitation Charm and handed Draco his bag. "He's in such a foul mood." She leaned in closer and whispered, even though there was no one around to eavesdrop. "Apparently, Lovegood promised Blaise a good time today, if you know what I mean. She said she learned a special new charm and she'll show him what it can do in the library. He was so excited." She shook her head. "Exhibitionism. I never understood it. But well, she seems to have forgotten her promise. Or she lied."
Draco winced. Reality had been creeping up on him since his hand had closed on Potter’s crotch. Potter's trousers were dry and his cock was soft; he had nothing to do with the library incident. But Potter kissed him. And smiled at him. And he probably thought Draco was insane, which Draco probably was, so it didn't matter. All was well.
Draco nodded to himself.
"Pansy," he said and threw his schoolbag over his shoulder. "You know, Blaise and Luna's love affair... I changed my mind. I approve. In fact, I think we should befriend her." Draco pursed his lips. Luna's familiarity with strange charms might just come in handy in the near future.
In return, Draco might teach her a thing or two about proper aiming.
Author:
faithwood My own prompt: Library sex.
Kink Showcased: Object penetration.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, Unidentified Conjured Object/Draco
Summary: This is a story about Draco Malfoy innocently sitting in the library, studying. And then unexpected ConjuredObject!penetration happens. So, basically, it's a classic 'whodunit' sort of plot.
Content Notes/Warnings: Surprise object penetration. The object is obviously conjured by someone, so consent is problematic. But Draco has a good time. Also, porno movie type title. But I guess it's too late to warn for that. >.>
Word Count: ~3,800
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. No copyright infringement intended.
Author's Notes: A huge thank you to my betas,
marguerite_26 and dysonrules. And Maggie, you're a lifesaver! ♥_♥Sometimes, if rarely, Draco questioned his judgment. When he had signed up for the History of Magic N.E.W.T. class, he believed it to be a stroke of wisdom. Not many people bothered with history, which made it easy to use it to one's advantage. A timely reference to a historical event had a way of impressing the impressionable and piquing the interest of an individual who thought himself clever.
However, imagined future conversations allowing him to flaunt his knowledge aside, Draco doubted that knowing how many children Babayaga ate for breakfast would be of much use to him after Hogwarts. A waste of time like many other lessons he endured.
Brow creased, Draco made a grudging note on his parchment. The story of Babayaga had soured his mood. A turn of page revealed there was much more of it to be had, complete with graphic images of the old hag preparing lunch.
Draco contemplated stabbing himself in the eye.
"What was that?" Pansy asked, too loud as ever. Half the library looked her way.
"Hush, child," Madam Pince scolded from her post. She scowled at Pansy and Pansy scowled right back.
Draco's right shoulder was rudely bumped as Pansy leaned closer. Ink splattered over Draco's notes, obscuring the number of eaten children.
"Did you hear it?" Pansy's tone was low this time.
"Hear what?" Draco touched the tip of his wand to the ink stain but then changed his mind and let it be. Perhaps he was not meant to remember this piece of information. It was safely tucked away beneath the splatter, and that was where it should stay. "The voices in your head?" he asked. "Pretty sure they were talking to you. Remember, though." He gave Pansy a mock-stern stare. "Let them talk but never talk back."
The punch that attempted to dislocate his shoulder was expected but nonetheless painful.
"Idiot." Pansy huffed. "I heard a whooshing sound. Did no one else hear it? Blaise?" She turned to glare at the opposite side of the desk where Blaise was busy colour coding his notes.
Blaise didn't look up when he said, "Perhaps it was the whooshing sound of knowledge fleeing your head."
Pansy looked heavenward. "I need new friends," she concluded.
"Try Potter," Blaise said, quite randomly. "I think he heard your whooshing sound."
Draco's gaze snapped to Potter's desk. Potter quickly looked down at his book, but Draco had already caught him staring. Nosy bastard. Always hoping to witness a Slytherin misdemeanour.
"I know what I heard." Pansy returned to her scribbles, abusing her quill, apparently trying to tear the parchment before her to pieces rather than write.
Draco patted her back. "I'm sure you did. Don't mind Blaise. He's just upset because he can't sit with his secret girlfriend."
That made Blaise look up. His glare would have been impressive if the effect wasn't spoiled by sparkly pink charms, emitted by his wand, which marked the important sections on his notes. "I don't have a girlfriend." Blaise's tone carried a note of warning.
Pansy snorted. "I think Luna Lovegood might disagree." She seemed to consider her statement. "Or perhaps not. Knowing her, she might have forgotten she has a boyfriend."
Blaise looked horrified. He stared at Draco. "You told Pansy?"
"Oh, darling!" Pansy laughed. "No one tells me anything. I simply know things." Her expression seemed to soften in light of Blaise's obvious distress. "Don’t look so worried. I told everyone it's a big secret, so you can continue to enjoy the thrills of a secret relationship because everyone's lips are sealed. In fact, I encourage you to keep this a secret. And never invite her to come sit with us." Pansy frowned at the back of the library where Luna was sitting beside Ginny Weasley, humming quietly to herself and distractedly waving her wand, painting strands of her hair silver.
Blaise followed Pansy's gaze, pursed his lips, then refocused on his studies. "I'm the one who needs new friends," he said. His sparkly pink charms turned silver, whether intentionally or accidentally, Draco had no idea.
He was about to tease Blaise for it, but the words froze in his throat.
Something brushed against his balls. But it couldn't have. He was fully dressed, sitting in a library, for fuck's sake. No one could possibly reach his balls. He squirmed. The chair was old and it creaked, undoubtedly drawing attention. Draco didn't look up to check. He stared at his notes instead.
"Are you all right?"
"Mmm." Draco flashed a quick smile in Pansy's direction. "Just busy. Loads to learn."
Draco's breath hitched. There it was again. A feather-light touch, barely there.
Pansy gave him a worried look but then returned to her essay.
Draco tried squirming again, carefully. It didn't help; it made things worse. Something cold and smooth pressed against his balls. Draco thought he had imagined it, but then it moved, caressing, fondling, like a hand that wasn't there. As though he was being fondled by something invisible.
Draco blinked, then looked at Potter again. The moment he did, he realised how ridiculous his conclusion was. Not only was Potter right there in plain sight, so he couldn't have been under Draco's desk beneath his Invisibility Cloak, but Potter was unlikely to fondle Draco in any case.
Potter looked up, straight at Draco, and Draco looked away, embarrassed by his thoughts. Whatever was touching his balls, it was not a hand. It didn't feel like a hand and a hand couldn't reach him through layers of clothing.
It was a spell. It must have been. One that had been cast a minute ago when Pansy had heard a whooshing sound. It was someone's stupid prank.
Cheeks heating up in anger, Draco reached for his wand. He waved it casually, as though pointing at his notes, but he aimed at his crotch instead. Finite Incantatem, he thought.
It was the wrong thing to do. The cool object in his pants turned warm and it slithered past his balls, lower and lower still, wriggling its way between Draco's buttocks. Draco stopped breathing. It wriggled, twisted, poked, then pressed firmly against his anus. Draco stilled in shock. It stayed there, solid and threatening. It wouldn't stop wriggling.
"I need..." A bathroom, he meant to say, but as he tried to rise, he realised he couldn't. He simply couldn't detach himself from the chair, as though his arse was glued to it.
"What?" Pansy asked, ever so helpful.
Draco glanced at her, which was a horrible thing to do. Here he was, looking at his childhood friend, while his anus was being caressed, teased, molested. "Er..." It took him moments to understand Pansy's questions. "I need more parchment," he said at last. The pressure against his pucker increased; it was pushing inside. Draco drew in a sharp breath. It pulled out, only caressing again. Draco exhaled.
Pansy's eyebrows rose high. "There's a whole stack of parchment in front of you."
It pushed inside again and pulled out. And then it did it again, and again, teasing. Draco shuddered. "Right." He looked at the desk. "Forgot."
"And they tell me I'm odd," Pansy muttered, shaking her head.
It pushed in deeper, stayed inside him longer; its presence was disturbing, strange, too intimate, and weirdly satisfying. Draco tried to get up, but he couldn't. His forehead was sweaty; he was getting hard.
Jaw clenched, he looked around. Whoever was doing this, they'd be sorry.
Ridiculous or not, Draco's gaze was drawn to Potter like a magnet. Potter shouldn't have been his suspect. Especially not his first suspect. Or his only suspect. Potter was sitting some ten feet away, sharing a desk with Granger and Weasley. He looked oddly studious, very still, staring down at his book. One of his hands was on the desk, the other hidden from view. On his lap, perhaps, or resting on his thigh.
The thing inside Draco struggled to push upwards, inching deeper, insistent and unyielding. Just when it became too much, it pulled out again. It was expanding, Draco realised. It must have been fixed to the chair together with Draco, growing upwards then shrinking again.
Potter looked sideways and caught Draco staring. Green eyes studied Draco curiously. Was Potter blushing? Draco thought he might be. It was hard to tell. It was hot in the library and Potter's skin was pale.
Potter squirmed in his chair and looked away. He was definitely blushing; his cheeks were pink.
The object, the toy, pushed up. Draco nearly yelped. It was thicker now, warmer, bolder, stroking slowly inside, as a lover might with his fingers.
Potter glanced at Draco again, so quickly Draco would have missed it if he hadn't been staring. Potter seemed unable to stop squirming, as though uncomfortable. Then his eyelashes fluttered and he grimaced. His hand was still hidden beneath the desk, and Draco suddenly couldn't breathe.
Potter was the one doing this. But it couldn't have been. Why would he do it? What sort of prank was this? Unless...
The blush on Potter's cheeks deepened. He squirmed in his chair again.
Sweet Merlin. A shock of pleasure made Draco clench around the toy. It had to have been Potter. Potter was fucking him. He was sitting not far away, not touching Draco at all, not even looking at him, but still fucking him. And getting off on it. Blushing and squirming because he was aroused, possibly touching himself, too.
"Draco, darling, are you all right?"
The toy was getting bigger, stretching, burning, and stroking something inside him that made the edges of his vision blurry. He was painfully hard. He'd reach down and stroke himself, but Pansy kept staring at him.
And she had asked a question. And he didn't reply.
Draco tried to focus. "Fine," he managed. His voice shook. He heard it shake; Pansy must have heard it, too. She was still staring. "It's just..." Draco squirmed. "Babayaga ate quite a lot of children. It's upsetting." He was so full. Filled with something he couldn't see, in the middle of the library, surrounded by students. He knew it was an irrational thought, but he was afraid someone might look at him and guess. Guess he was sitting there getting fucked by a toy. Potter's toy. Guess he was indecently stuffed with it in broad daylight.
"It is?" Pansy frowned. "But they were Muggle children, Draco," she added because she never learned not to voice dangerous opinions.
It was even bigger now. It was huge. It would open him too wide, split him in half. That should have been terrifying, and it was, but Draco's cock was throbbing. He gasped.
"Er," Pansy said.
"But children, Pansy!" Draco cried. "Muggle or not. Poor things." He wished Pansy would shut up and look away.
Pansy snorted. "Louder, Draco. I don't think Potter heard you."
Draco froze. "What?" The toy was twitching inside him; he wanted to twitch with it.
Pansy clicked her tongue impatiently. "If you were hoping Potter heard you worrying about poor Muggles, I don't think he did."
"Oh," Draco said, then added, "Oh!" as the toy hit that spot again. It was hard to keep his eyes open. "Why would I hope—"
Pansy rolled her eyes, said, "Whatever," and turned away.
Draco's hands clenched into fists. He leaned forward, hoping it looked like he was studying. He was studying. He was studying Potter out of the corner of his eye. Potter's bottom lip was between his teeth. He stared blankly at his desk, still squirming, still flushed.
The toy inside Draco was thrusting up slowly. It couldn't move properly, not with Draco sitting down. He was desperate to roll his hips, desperate to reach down and touch himself. His eyes fell closed. He imagined Potter behind him, imagined Potter's cock fucking him, not his toy. The thought was pleasant, but it wasn't enough. He couldn't come like this. He needed something. He needed...
Oh. Draco shuddered. The toy began to vibrate.
A touch on Draco's shoulder startled him so violently he jumped. Lights exploded in front of his eyes when the toy slammed deeper inside him, when he slammed down on the toy. Merlin, that felt good. He was tempted to jump up again, but that would not have gone unnoticed.
"Draco, darling..." Pansy retreated her hand. She sounded worried. "Maybe you should stop reading about Babayaga if it upsets you that much. She was punished for her crimes, you know. The story has a happy ending."
Draco couldn't look at her. He nodded. "Yes, I know. It's... God, yes." The vibrations curled around his prostate, getting stronger, spreading inside him, reaching his balls, his cock, his thighs. It was too much, too intense. Draco's eyes watered.
He heard Blaise whisper something unintelligible and Pansy whispered back. She said something about Draco, about the Dark Lord and possible traumas. He couldn't even bring himself to care. Nothing existed except the vibrating toy and Potter, sitting there, knowing Draco was helplessly trapped by the pleasure he was giving him.
The world spun as Draco squeezed his eyes shut and gave in to the feeling. He thought Pansy might have said something, asked, "Can you hear a buzzing sound?" and Blaise might have slammed his book, called them insufferable and left.
None of it mattered. Draco's body was strung tight, every muscle clenched in anticipation. He forced his eyes open to look at Potter again. Potter's neck was bent; Draco thought he might be shivering, or maybe there was something wrong with Draco's eyes. He could feel the vibrations spread through his body, consuming him. His ears were ringing.
A sudden wave of pleasure threatened to push a cry past his lips. Draco clenched his jaw, refused to let it out. The chair creaked as he came. He suspected everyone heard it. He hoped Potter did. He hoped Potter was watching him, stroking himself through his trousers and coming into his pants at the sight of Draco twitching in his chair.
"Would you like some water?"
Draco opened his eyes. His face, pulled into a tight grimace, felt numb. The light was blinding, the air was scarce, he was still shivery. The toy inside him stopped moving; it shrank, then disappeared. Draco felt empty.
"Some tea? A biscuit?"
Draco turned towards Pansy. Her eyes were very wide. He felt moisture on his cheeks; sweat or tears, he had no idea.
"Er, I..." A movement to his left caught Draco's attention. Potter was gathering his notes. Then he stood up and threw his schoolbag over his shoulder. He was leaving.
"Water. Yes." Draco stood up. The chair didn't stop him, his shaky thighs almost did. "Great idea, Pansy." His pants were sticky and there was a wet spot on his trousers. His Hogwarts robes mercifully hid the mess. "Wait here," he added when Pansy rose up, as though to follow him.
Draco didn't wait to see if Pansy would do as he asked; he rushed after Potter, who had already exited the library, seemingly in a great hurry.
Draco burst outside, breathless. He was sore and flushed, but ignored it all in favour of looking around wildly for any sign of Potter. He found him in the next corridor, hurrying towards the stairs.
"Potter!"
Potter walked faster.
"Wait!" Draco sprinted forwards, acutely aware of the sticky, cooling mess in his pants.
Potter stopped and turned, hesitating. "What?" he asked when Draco reached him. He looked nervous. He looked flushed. He looked kissable. Draco's mind lingered on the last thought.
"Er," Potter said, all green eyes and black hair and full lips parted in bemusement.
Draco had no idea what he had planned to do once Potter stood before him — well, maybe he had sort of planned to punch him — but he knew what he wanted to do now. So he did it.
He grabbed Potter's shoulders, pushed him against the wall and kissed him.
Potter didn't struggle, possibly too surprised to react, but he made a sound in his throat, as though he was choking, as though he was outraged. The nerve of him.
Draco forced his tongue into Potter's mouth. A giddy, warm feeling settled in his stomach and stayed there. He was kissing Potter. At last.
Potter's palm was on Draco's chest, pushing him away. Draco licked Potter's lips, memorising their shape, and pulled back, but only a little. He was still close enough to feel Potter's warm breath on his lips and see every dark eyelash framing Potter's shocked green eyes.
"What are you —?"
Draco silenced Potter by reaching down to palm his crotch. "You want to push something inside me, Potter," Draco said, hand stroking, "you can try that." He squeezed Potter's cock through layers of clothing. Potter wasn't hard, but he felt like a handful.
Potter's eyes rounded. Draco was sure Potter had stopped breathing.
"And you can do it tonight," Draco added. "Meet me on the East tower after midnight."
"Er," Potter said, ever so eloquent. He looked around in confusion, as though expecting someone to jump from behind the corner.
Draco heard distant laughter. It was drawing closer. Their private moment wouldn't last forever.
"Say you'll be there, Potter," Draco whispered urgently, fingers curling. He kissed Potter again. Potter didn't respond, but he didn't stop the kiss, either. He was so warm and pliant and Potterish, Draco was getting hard again. "Merlin, Potter, you’re an utter pervert."
He felt Potter's body stiffen. "I... Um."
Draco spoke against Potter's lips. "You're lucky that I'm one, too. And I love to return favours."
Potter shivered. He blinked, gaze fixed on Draco's eyes. He bit his lip, licked it, shifted his weight, then opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
Eyes open, Draco kissed him again, just a slow touch of lips. "You'll be there. Say it," he said, possibly begged.
"I..." Potter drew in a shuddering breath. "All right?"
The world titled. When it returned into focus, Draco realised he was grinning, and Potter, still looking ridiculously shocked, was giving him a tentative smile.
"God, Malfoy." Potter laughed a little; it sounded nervous. He pushed Draco's stroking hand away. "You're very... forward."
Draco stared. "I'm forward?"
Someone laughed again. Any second now students would burst into the corridor.
Draco released Potter's shoulders and forced his feet to move backwards. Merlin. Why did he ask for a midnight meeting? They could go somewhere now.
A group of sixth years appeared, heading towards them, and Draco took another step backwards. "See you later, Potter," he said, grinning like an idiot. He turned to leave.
Potter grabbed his wrist and stopped him.
"I agreed to meet you," Potter said. "Not to..." He cleared his throat. "Well. This is just a bit sudden for me; I'm sure you understand. So... We could go out flying, or something."
Draco stared at him; Potter's palm seemed to burn through his wrist.
Potter's behaviour was senseless. Well, senseless for someone who had fucked Draco with a magical toy earlier. For someone who had not fucked Draco with a magical toy earlier, but who had been randomly ambushed in a corridor and offered sex...
Merlin.
But no. It had to have been Potter. All that blushing and squirming. And staring. Admittedly, Draco had been staring at Potter quite a bit and Potter might have simply stared back in confusion, but Draco didn't imagine the flush on Potter's cheek, the restlessness, the way he was falling forward in his chair, eyes glazed.
The sixth years passed them by and rounded the corner. Potter squeezed Draco's wrist, leaned in, and brushed his lips against Draco's.
"I'm looking forward to tonight," Potter said, in a way that suggested he was surprised by his own admission. His green gaze searched Draco's face. He shook his head and released Draco's wrist. "And now," he added. "I have to go get some Pepperup. Been feeling feverish the whole day. I don't want to be sick tonight, do I?" Potter smiled. "You should probably get some, too. After all, we kissed..." Potter closed his mouth suddenly, as though he just realised they had truly kissed and was shocked all over again. He scratched the back of his head. "You don't owe me any favours, you know. For the..." He looked uncomfortable. "For what happened in the Room of Requirement back then. I'd do it again in a heartbeat." He frowned. "And this..." He waved his hand between them. "Isn't perverted. Not even close," he said firmly. He hesitated for another moment, then smiled, said, "Er, well, see you," and walked away. He turned to look back at Draco a few times, eyes wide, before he disappeared behind the corner.
Draco was frozen on the spot; the word feverish echoed in his mind, mocking him.
"Better?"
Draco spun around. "Merlin, Pansy. Don't sneak up on me."
Pansy stood behind him, wand in hand; their schoolbags floated beside her. "Oh, Draco, you don't look well." She felt his forehead with her free hand. "Maybe you're coming down with something. I heard there's a nasty flu going around. Some Pepperup might help."
Draco clenched his jaw.
"I'm fine," he said. He didn't need Pepperup. He needed a shower and a change of clothes. He needed to stop the frantic spinning of his thoughts.
Draco nodded at the floating schoolbags. "Aren't we waiting for Blaise?"
"No." Pansy huffed, cancelled the Levitation Charm and handed Draco his bag. "He's in such a foul mood." She leaned in closer and whispered, even though there was no one around to eavesdrop. "Apparently, Lovegood promised Blaise a good time today, if you know what I mean. She said she learned a special new charm and she'll show him what it can do in the library. He was so excited." She shook her head. "Exhibitionism. I never understood it. But well, she seems to have forgotten her promise. Or she lied."
Draco winced. Reality had been creeping up on him since his hand had closed on Potter’s crotch. Potter's trousers were dry and his cock was soft; he had nothing to do with the library incident. But Potter kissed him. And smiled at him. And he probably thought Draco was insane, which Draco probably was, so it didn't matter. All was well.
Draco nodded to himself.
"Pansy," he said and threw his schoolbag over his shoulder. "You know, Blaise and Luna's love affair... I changed my mind. I approve. In fact, I think we should befriend her." Draco pursed his lips. Luna's familiarity with strange charms might just come in handy in the near future.
In return, Draco might teach her a thing or two about proper aiming.
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