Rimshots: Nothing Changes

Disclaimer: Not mine, I'm only borrowing.

A/N:
This is the second in the Rimshots series (although they don't need to be read in order). The only condition for the challenge was that the story had to contain rimming - the rest is just my own imagination running riot. :D

Huge hugs and thanks to Ali and VL Red Reign, my co-authors in the series, for their help and encouragement, and even bigger hugs and thanks to Melisande who took on the task of beta'ing the lot of us!

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“Harry Potter has caught the Golden Snitch! Two and a half hours into play and Gryffindor has beaten Slytherin - Two hundred and eighty to two hundred and sixty!” Michael Corner’s voice reverberated throughout the Hogwarts Quidditch stadium.

Harry completed his victory lap and touched down still clutching the fluttering golden ball above his head. The rest of the Gryffindor team - Andrew Kirke, Jack Sloper, Natalie MacDonald, Vicky Frobisher, Ginny and Ron Weasley, quickly touched down and Harry was soon surrounded by his congratulating teammates.

It was Ron who diverted his attention from Gryffindor's win, Ron who clapped him on the back and made his stomach flip.

“That was bloody brilliant, Harry, did you see the look on Malfoy’s face when you caught the snitch from right under his nose? Fantastic. Couldn’t have started our final year better. Malfoy’s going to be pissed off for months!”

Harry inclined his head slightly but his attention was focused across the pitch where Malfoy was standing with the rest of the Slytherin team. Ron was right. Malfoy was pissed. His jaw was clenched shut and Harry could see a muscle jumping under the skin of his cheek even at a distance. Malfoy’s blue-grey gaze was directed straight at him, seemingly connected to his groin if the tightening in his trousers was anything to go by, but then, Malfoy always had that effect on him nowadays, no matter how he looked at Harry.

Harry had been sleeping with Malfoy since the middle of the previous school year and if there was one thing he’d learnt since then it was that Malfoy used sex to blow off steam, to relax. From the scowl on his face at the moment, Malfoy would need to blow off a lot of steam sometime very, very soon. And since he, Harry was Malfoy’s boyfriend - no, that wasn’t right…lover? Partner? Fuckbuddy? Archrival who occasionally put out? Yes, that fit. Since he was Malfoy’s archrival who occasionally put out, he would be the one to help Malfoy blow off that steam.

For Harry, the need to just go straight to the blond’s room and wait for him in bed was like a physical ache; only his semi-functional survival instincts prevented him from doing so. Malfoy could get a little…volatile when he was riled. It was best to give him time to calm down, Harry decided. So he followed his teammates towards the showers, trying to walk normally whilst hiding as much of his tented groin as possible beneath his Quidditch robes. Malfoy sneered as Harry caught his eye.

‘Oh, he knows,’ Harry thought ‘I am so going to pay for this later.’

Even as he reached the locker rooms minutes later, he was undecided as to whether that thought scared him or turned him on.

By the time Harry had calmed himself down enough to decently use the boys communal showers, his teammates had begun to head back up towards the castle. Not, of course, without first delivering a few leering jokes about how exciting Harry must find Quidditch.

They weren’t far wrong but his teammates knew nothing of what was going on between the two seekers and Harry didn’t think they’d appreciate him explaining exactly why he found Quidditch exciting - Malfoy's ass in Quidditch leathers was to die for.

After washing thoroughly, Harry stood for a good ten minutes under the warm spray, wondering if he should turn the cold tap on full or if he could make it to the Slytherin dungeons unseen with the hard-on that wouldn’t disappear but could cut diamonds. His decision was made for him when he felt a familiar, partially-clothed body against his back and saw Draco’s, and he was Draco here, not Malfoy, pale arm reach across him to turn off the water. Harry tensed at the sudden loss of warm water.

“What’s the matter Potter, too good to be fucked by me now that you’ve won?”

‘Oh shit.’

Draco’s voice was deceptively soft, the voice he used when he had worked himself into an even fouler mood than he’d started off in.

‘I was wrong, I should have gone to him straight away - not giving him time to plan.’ Draco grasped Harry’s hands and forcefully transferred them to the shower head.

“Stay. Right. There.”

Harry gripped the shower head tightly, trying to repress the shiver running through him. He couldn't tell whether it was from cold, Draco’s breath on his ear or just plain excitement.

Movement at the edge of his vision made the Gryffindor turn in time to see Draco’s wand emitting dark sparks and he found his hands and wrists magically bound to the shower. Harry was about to retort that now he certainly wasn’t able to go anywhere even if he wanted to, when a silky blindfold was slipped over his eyes and tied tightly.

“Draco, what the -”

“Quiet.” Draco’s tone was harsh, cold and not to be argued with. Even without the stinging slap on his right ass cheek, that tone would have made him unbelievably hard; as it was, Harry felt desire course through his body, causing him to groan quietly and push his backside out, offering himself to Draco.

Although Draco had an almost unhealthy obsession with power and winning, he generally preferred his sex life to be much more…mutually satisfying and so it wasn’t often that he felt this need to dominate his partner. And Harry had a feeling that this was what Draco was demanding now, not that he minded, quite the opposite in fact. Draco dominating him was one of his top three fantasies.

Draco was running his hands down the brunet’s bound arms and back, fingers caressing lithe muscle, thumbs digging into tanned flesh just this side of painful.

“Look at you,” he started softly, mouth moving against Harry’s ear.

“I’ve barely touched you and already you’re begging for me, arching your back,” Draco’s hands slipped lower, fondling his ass. “Thrusting this,” he squeezed, “up against me.”

Draco’s hands left his ass in favour of inching around his hips, towards his jutting cock. Harry whimpered in anticipation, trying not to move lest he divert the blond’s talented hands from their goal. Draco snorted in amusement and bit the cartilage of Harry’s ear.

“Not yet, lover,” he sneered. His wandering hands ran up Harry’s chest, stopping to roll his nipples between clever fingers. Harry groaned, torn. Part of him wanted this to last, wanted Draco to do whatever entered that gorgeous blond head of his, but another part of him wanted Draco to stop teasing and take him soon, to let him go so that he could reciprocate.

“They don’t know about us, do they? Your holier-than-thou Gryffindor teammates? Not good enough for their moral sensibilities, am I?” Harry opened his mouth to protest, to remind Draco that he hadn’t told anyone either but slim fingers were filling his mouth, cutting off all attempts at speech as the Slytherin continued to talk quietly into his ear.

“What would they think, I wonder, if they knew. Knew how prettily you begged for my cock.”

As if emphasizing his point, Draco pressed himself even closer and Harry could feel the blond’s hardened cock against his ass even through the leather Quidditch trousers he wore. Harry sucked harder on the fingers in his mouth, swirling his tongue around them, and stretched his invisible bonds as he tried to get as close as possible to the boy behind him.

‘How the hell can Draco be that hard and still seem so calm?’ he thought.

Draco slid his fingers out of his mouth. Harry tried to recapture them, but with the blindfold firmly in place it was futile. He fancied that he could almost sense Draco’s smirk at his actions, although his tone showed no trace of it.

“If they knew how much you wanted my cock in your ass…wanted it here.” One of Draco’s saliva slicked fingers unceremoniously breached Harry’s entrance, making the brunet moan.

“If they knew how much you buck and groan and love being finger fucked. Even from a Slytherin.”

Harry knew he was doing just as Draco described but couldn’t stop himself, especially with Draco’s finger brushing against that spot as it moved within him, the spot that made his whole body tingle.

“Oh fuck Draco, I need to -” he pleaded, but the finger was removed as abruptly as it had entered.

“We can't have that now, can we?” Draco said, his amusement evident. Harry felt something cold and hard touch the base of his cock, which twitched at the unknown sensation.

‘what was Draco do - ah.’ A few muttered words in his ear and Harry felt a recognizable tightening around his balls and cock - the charm would effectively prevent him from coming, no matter what was done to him.

“Draco - please don’t!” Harry found his head pulled almost painfully back by his hair.

“Did I give you permission to talk, Potter?” Draco spat .“When I want you to speak, I’ll tell you to. Until then - shut up, unless you want me to gag that fuckable mouth of yours.”

Without letting go of the brunet’s hair, Draco ran a disinterested finger up Harry’s shaft to circle the head. Harry’s breathing became even more erratic with the teasing contact. Although he always loved it when Draco touched him, this was different. The loss of sight and control seemed to make every nerve ending in his body hyperaware of each sensation: the feel of Draco’s soft breath against his taut neck, Draco’s hand feather light, caressing his aching cock, the familiar chest, hot and muscular against his back, the soft leather of Draco’s trousers as he rubbed his hard-on against Harry softly.

“Now, where were we?” Draco drawled, seemingly unaware of the sensations he was causing in the Gryffindor. Harry let a strangled moan escape, hoping that wherever they were, it involved him coming soon, before he combusted or went mad with desire.

“Ah yes, I remember. What your precious teammates would think of their golden-boy-hero if they knew the truth. Do you want to know the truth, Potter?” he asked conversationally. Harry didn’t answer - did that constitute permission to talk? The hand in his hair yanked his head back impossibly far, and the hand on his cock tightened cruelly. Harry bucked his hips, attempting to find friction.

“I asked you a question, Potter. Do you want to know the truth? Answer me,” Draco hissed. Unable to nod his head, Harry answered, his voice a little breathier than he would have liked.

“Yes, the truth.”

Unexpectedly, Draco let go and moved away. Harry would have fallen to the floor if his hands hadn’t still been bound. The showerhead was high enough to stop him falling to his knees but too low to keep him on his feet, and he ended up uncomfortably pressed against the tiled wall.

“Get up and spread your legs, Potter.”

Harry heard an exasperated sigh behind him as strong arms hauled him upright when he didn’t react soon enough.

“Now spread your legs like the slut that we both know that you are.”

Harry froze, feeling shock at these words. Draco, although he had a ferocious tongue at the best of times, had never been so degrading towards him during sex. A stab of fear shot through Harry - what if this was some evil plot? Or worse - some perverted Slytherin sex show?

“Fucking incompetent Gryffindor,” he heard Draco mutter as his hips were pulled back and legs pushed apart, further than was comfortable. Fear and shock had taken the edge off of his lust but hadn’t really diminished the physical evidence. The desperate need to come, however, quickly returned when he felt Draco’s teeth biting the flesh of his backside. Draco wouldn’t do that in front of an audience, Harry was sure.

As Draco’s mouth nipped and licked its way towards the middle of Harry’s ass, it crossed his mind to ask just what did this have to do with the truth about them. This thought was lost almost instantly as Draco’s tongue swiped across his puckered entrance. Harry let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, trying to move his legs into a more comfortable position, but the blond held them apart, fingers caressing Harry’s inner thighs.

Harry could feel Draco nosing between his cheeks, tongue swirling lightly over his entrance occasionally, teasing but never breaching. He tried to push against that firm muscle but he was being stretched and held in such a way that any movement was virtually impossible.

‘Fuck. Draco had really thought this out well.’

Of course, Harry had thought about this too, being completely dominated by the blond, relinquishing all control to him. None of his fantasies had been as good as the reality, though. Or included Draco doing this. Perhaps it was time to rethink his fantasies?

Draco, perhaps sensing that he didn’t have Harry’s full attention, chose that moment to plunge his tongue inside the brunet’s ass. If he had been able to come, Harry would have done so at that moment, but the anti-climaxing charm tightened again, doing nothing to alleviate his pleasure. If anything, it gave him the illusion of being touched, but frustratingly, without the friction.

Harry felt his ass cheeks prised apart and Draco’s lips wrap around his opening, sucking lightly as his tongue plunged and curled inside of him. Harry edged his legs closer together to try to get enough mobility to thrust back against Draco’s mouth…which had suddenly disappeared. The bound Gryffindor whimpered at the loss and turned his head as if that would let him see through the blindfold.

“Draco, what -”

“I didn’t say you could move, Potter,” Draco sneered, running his hands up Harry’s legs.

“Open your legs for me,” he ordered. Harry moaned and couldn’t contain a shiver as Draco’s breath ghosted across his still wet entrance.

“I want to see you, spread out in front of me. Bound and blindfolded and doing whatever I tell you to do.” Draco’s dulcet tones seemed to wash over him, getting him even hornier if that was possible. Unable to contain his own need, Harry spread his legs for the blond Slytherin in hopes of enticing him to continue.

“Such a good little Gryffindor,” Draco breathed before plundering Harry’s opening with even more fervour than before. The feeling of Draco’s strong tongue thrusting in and out of him, opening him, readying his insides for something much larger, was almost overwhelming Harry. His body felt overheated and his neglected cock was swollen and impossibly heavy between his legs as wetness gathered at the tip. Abruptly tongue and mouth disappeared to be replaced by something much thicker pressing against Harry’s entrance.

“You see, the truth is, Potter,” Draco’s hands were on his hips pushing him upright before pulling him back onto his cock, completely impaling the brunet. Harry reluctantly let out a sob as his body stretched uncomfortably to accept the blond’s cock. He was grateful that at some point Draco must have slicked himself up - no amount of saliva could make Draco’s cock easy to take.

Draco stilled as Harry tried to become accustomed to the large intrusion, stroking down the shivering, panting boy’s sides. Harry could feel the bite of cold metal against his rear telling him that Draco still wore his trousers. The Gryffindor felt wet, open-mouthed kisses along his neck, then on his ear.

“The truth is, you’re mine.”

The blond pulled back and thrust in deep before Harry could grasp the implications of this.

“You’ve always been mine.”

This time Draco hit his sweet spot on the inward thrust as Harry pushed back, meeting the blond’s slow rhythm perfectly. He groaned as Draco palmed his cock and continued whispering in that calm, husky voice.

“You’ll always be mine. My rival, my equal and now…” Harry pitched forward, blindly grabbing the shower head as Draco drove himself particularly hard into his body.

“My whore.” Draco’s breath glided across Harry’s sensitive skin and he whimpered as Draco’s slow, deep thrusts left him wanting more. Harder, faster, deeper - everything.

“Doing anything I tell you to. Too blinded by desire, desire I evoke in you, to argue.” The blond’s voice was a possessive growl with this last. His arm slipped up Harry’s chest to hold him even closer as he began to thrust harder into Harry’s tight body.

“You’ll do anything I say, just to keep my hands on you, to keep my tongue or my cock inside you.”

Harry barely had to move anymore. Draco was pulling his whole body down to meet each vicious thrust.

“What would they think of that? What would they think if they could see you now?”

The blindfold made it easier for Harry to visualize what a picture they must make. The muscles under Draco’s pale, sex dampened skin working to hold and drive into the body in front, his lower body still clad in Quidditch leathers, opened just enough to allow his engorged cock to bury itself over and over again in Harry’s writhing body. And Harry’s own body, held upright only by the death grip on the shower head and the blond’s strong arms, bucking against the cock in his ass and the hand jerking him off.

“Their golden Gryffindor hero tied and blindfolded with my cock buried hilt deep in his ass. And loving it. Loving what I do to you, the way I make you feel.”

Harry felt the charm on his balls disappear with a whispered word from behind, only to be replaced with Draco’s hand pinching the base of his cock, still preventing him from coming.

“Draco, please! Please just let me..” Harry sobbed, head down, almost giving up hope of ever being granted release. His head was pulled up fiercely, back arching uncomfortably. Until his cheek touched Draco’s sweat damp shoulder and he could feel warm breath on his lips. He was faintly surprised that the blond’s breathing was as irregular as his own. It felt like as if everything stopped in that moment, everything but his and Draco’s breathing, which seemed louder than ever to Harry’s ears. Draco pulled out slowly, almost completely.

“What would they think if they knew you love me?” Draco asked quietly.

Harry’s world exploded - Draco’s mouth captured his own in a searing kiss, tongue forcing entry into his body at the same time as his cock. The hard pressure on his groin disappeared to be replaced by the sweet, firm friction of Draco’s hand. Harry moaned throatily into the blond’s mouth as he came. His climax was far more intense than he thought possible: every muscle in his body convulsed in pleasure. Draco’s cock felt impossibly large as he continued to pound into Harry’s body, his hand gently milking Harry’s flagging cock, prolonging his orgasm.
Draco tore his mouth away from Harry’s,

“Just as much …”

He buried his face in the brunet’s neck and Harry could hear the blond making almost inaudible moans of pleasure as he came, plunging one last time into Harry’s body and emptying himself inside.

“…As I love you.”

They remained motionless for a long while, waiting for their breathing to return to normal. The hand in Harry’s hair now lightly caressed as Draco’s other arm wrapped around his torso. Standing like this, Harry could almost believe that Draco had meant what he thought he heard.

‘As I love you.’

‘I love you.’

Did he really say that? Did Draco-Junior-Death- Eater Malfoy really love him, Harry Potter?

Draco moved away, his hands reluctantly leaving Harry as they slid down his sides and away.

Finite Incantatem.”

Harry’s bonds disappeared and he turned and slid down the tiled wall, wincing slightly as he sat down full on the unforgiving floor. When he took off his blindfold, Draco was picking up his Quidditch jumper and threading his arms through it.

“Did you mean it?” Harry asked. He simply had to know - this could change everything for him. Draco gave him an oddly measuring look and Harry suddenly felt self-conscious, naked with his legs spread out on the floor.

“I never outright lie to you Harry. Not about important things.”
The brunet nodded, wishing, not for the first time, that he had a road map for Draco’s word games. The blond turned and started towards the door. Harry didn’t know what he should say but he knew instinctively that if he let Draco go now they would never broach this subject again.

“Draco…”

The blond stopped at the door, but didn’t turn around.

“It changes nothing, Harry. It never has.”

Harry sat for a long while, arms wrapped around his bent knees, contemplating Draco’s words. By the time he made it back to the castle, night had well and truly fallen and the Gryffindor’s customary celebratory party was already over.