Part and Parsel

NOTES:
"This is obviously speaking."
These are thoughts.
"/This is parseltongue! /"

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Lingering in the cool hallways after hours was a thrill that never stopped being ... well, thrilling to Draco. He knew “Saint Potter” was forever roaming around at night; if he could do it, so could the blonde!

Letting go of his sudden flare of anger, he kept his senses open, encouraging his magic to reach out and make sure he was alone. Like a cooperative partner, he felt tendrils of himself reaching out through the surrounding walls, reporting back to him with the information that there were two people just around the next corner, tucked into a small niche in the wall. Finding it curious, and knowing that as a prefect, it was his duty to make sure students weren't out in the hallways, he turned the corner.

It was the hissing that warned him first of who was there; a very familiar sound, that; he was remembering second year...

[Serpensortia!]

And then the horrible hissing noise as Potter advanced on the snake about to attack the mudblood boy. This was exactly like that time except there was more than just hissing and gasping...

"Oh, Merlin, do it again..." Draco paused a moment to reign in his blush as he realized what was happening. There were students in the halls, fooling around. A short breath, a masculine chuckle, and more hissing.

Turning the corner, Draco found himself facing a very familiar backside, and stepped back behind the cover of the other hallway to observe unseen.

Two students, possibly both seven years judging from the size of them were tucked into a small niche in the wall, just as his magic had informed him. What it had failed to 'mention' was that they were doing a bit more than making out, and they were definitely both male. The shadows prevented Draco from seeing the face of the boy pressed against the wall, but the one doing the pressing - and this was astounding in and of itself - was clearly none other than the Gryffindor Golden Boy, Harry Potter.

"Oooh, Harry..." A choked off moan from the nameless boy confirmed his guess. Casting a small night-vision charm, Draco found that his view of the other boy's face was still obstructed, this time by Potter himself, but the view of his hand reaching into pants and jerking weren't lost on him.

He's... gay, for one. And fooling around with another boy in the corridor for two! Draco wasn't sure which shocked him more; the fact that Potter was exhibitionist enough to risk it, or that he was risking it with another guy.

"What did you say?" The faceless one's voice was strained, and Draco felt his own pants tightening impossibly when Potter chuckled again.

"I said, /you're very sexy. Not half as sexy as your Slytherin friend, though. You turn me on so bad. /"

"Ungh—English, Harry!" Breathing hard, Draco could tell that the other boy was close to release. He could understand why, too - Potter's Parseltongue was fucking SEXY.

"You're so good, Adrian," Harry breathed. "Fucking sexy as hell,"

Adrian moaned once more, and then cried out sharply, but quietly. Draco heard a muffled 'scourgify!' and some chuckles.

"See you at the match tomorrow?" Harry's voice drifted out from the alcove, where the two had retreated.

"Play well, little Seeker; I won't hold back." Adrian replied, and Draco blinked owlishly. Tomorrow was the Slytherin/Gryffindor match, which meant that the guy Potter was with was a ...

....

......

Slytherin.

Disgusted with his formerly anonymous housemate, Draco leaned closer, trying to hear.

"I would expect no less from you, Pucey." Potter said, and Draco could hear the grin in his voice. Some wet noises ensued, which sent Draco's almost-fried brain into overdrive, and then the Slytherin slipped out of the niche and vanished down the darkened hallway. Draco paused, unwilling to follow him and be caught by Potter, but suddenly realizing that instead of interrupting and turning them in, he'd sat and watched like a dirty voyeur. Frowning when Potter didn't come out of the niche after him, he peeked again, leaning a little closer, then jerked backwards as he realized that it was empty.

He couldn't have gotten by me, I was watching that thing the whole time! Draco grumped to himself, wondering how he'd done it. His next warning was a quiet hiss, and then he found himself pushed into the wall, his wand hand captured and bent at an awkward angle behind his back. Turning his head, he couldn't see his captor, and was, for the first time since Voldemort's destruction, afraid.

"Who's there?!" he whispered harshly, his erection fading against the cool stones of the underground hall. His only reply was the wind racing down the empty corridor, but as it blew past there was a hint of something, just behind him...

Movement, and Potter appeared from nowhere, holding his wrist with one hand. "Enjoy the show, Malfoy?" he asked, darkly. He keenly remembered the fiasco at the end of the year, and his own involvement in the goings-on. Draco's acute fear crystallized into near-terror. Here was the most powerful wizard of the age, someone who loathed him, alone in an abandoned corridor at two in the morning. Draco suddenly wondered if he'd live to see the next sunrise.

"And here I thought you'd been raised better than that," Potter hissed, reminding Draco of the Parseltongue. "/It's polite to answer people when they're asking you things, Draco./ " Potter said, smirking as though he'd read Draco's thoughts. Shivering against his will as the snake-language seemed to go straight from his ears to his groin, Draco wondered when he'd developed such a fetish. Remembering Adrian's response, he mused that maybe it wasn't so strange after all.

"Aren't you supposed to be in bed at this hour, Potter?" Draco said, trying to ignore the feeling of Potter's warm and toned body pressing his against the slimy, cold wall.

"Is that an invitation?"
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His preferences had been clear to him since Cho Chang, and Harry was no stranger to the Slytherin's seeking him out at night for a bit of this and that. He managed to hide his ever growing attraction to the particular Slytherin he'd never, ever get simply because if anyone got wind of it, he'd simply die in shame.

Draco Malfoy was a god among men.

And God, Harry wanted him badly. So badly that old enmities crumbled to a fine dust in the face of the overwhelming, all-consuming want.

With Draco crushed between his body and the wall, Harry was aware of every nuance of flesh beneath the thin veneer of clothing. The soft hair so fine that every breath stirred it, the Quidditch-hardened muscles, the pale, almost white face.

The words came out on instinct; the rest of Harry's brain-function had effectively shut down as soon as he'd driven Draco against the granite. Seeing the blonde's face flush at his words, Harry mentally replayed them. Bed, Potter? Invitation?

Good grief, I sound like a Slytherin.

"That depends," Draco said, drawling the words out almost mockingly. "What are you willing to give me?" It was Harry's turn to be shocked into silence. Drawing on Voldemort's power, released to him when the other Wizard did nothing less than explode, he used Legillimency silently, scanning Draco's thoughts. What he found there was nothing short of shocking. Finally seeing a means to the end of his near-obsession with the Slytherin, he spun him around, so that his back was against the wall. Smirking at him, he slid to his knees. "How about the best blow job you've ever had?" he asked, looking up through his eyelashes at him.

Draco visibly melted against the wall, his eyes closing in surprise. This wasn't happening. This was a dream. This couldn't POSSIBLY be happening, because Harry Potter was straight. Harry hated him! He was straight and hating, and straight hating people didn't offer to blow the guy they hated.

"/Does this make you hard, Draco? Seeing me on my knees in front of you?/ " Harry knew what effect his Parseltongue would have, and did it deliberately. Draco shuddered quietly at the hissing - it was much worse when directed at him, he realized, and wondered if Harry was using some sort of spell on him to make him want it so badly.

Although, if he listened hard enough, he could hear... words underneath the noise. Just faint glimpses of them, as though someone were shouting at him through thick glass and from across the road. 'This...ha... Dray? Eez... of?'

Harry smirked at him, and slowly began undoing the buttons on his trousers. Draco clutched at the wall behind him, almost unable to believe that this was really happening to him, right then and there.

Harry's first touch on his length was almost enough to send him over the edge in itself, never mind when he actually started stroking him. A soft whimper slid out of his throat, swallowed up by the early morning air surrounding them.

After a few moments of just stroking lightly, Harry took him into his mouth, sucking gently, and swirling his tongue around the head. Given Draco's response above him, he was doing a good job. This, however, was one of the memories going straight into his pensieve when he got back to his dorm. No one knew he had it; and all of his most private memories went into it. Sliding his fingers down at the same time as he relaxed his throat to take Draco deeper in, Harry stroked and caressed every bit of skin he could find. Draco's moans were getting louder, and his hips were thrusting into Harry's mouth in a facsimile of what they both wanted. Harry's questing fingers found the puckered ring of muscle nestled between the two perfectly formed mounds of his ass, and he massaged it gently before sliding a finger in.

Draco was seeing stars above him; nothing in his life had ever felt this good, and he was almost afraid for it to end. When Harry's finger pushed inside his body, he nearly lost it, but it was when that same finger brushed against something inside him that he truly felt the orgasm ripple through his body. Biting his lip to keep from screaming, he moaned out Harry's name as he came, shuddering. Halfway through, he realized that Harry's mouth was still on him, and that realization brought the knowledge that the Boy-Who-Lived had not only sucked him off, but was swallowing his come. The sight renewed his climax, and he was still shuddering slightly from aftershocks as he finished. Harry pulled away, and stood up, leaving Draco limp and almost boneless against the wall. Casting a small cleaning spell, he smirked. When Draco closed his eyes, Harry picked up his invisibility cloak, and retreated into the alcove he'd been in with Adrian Pucey to watch.

Recovering, Draco opened his eyes again, and gasped when Harry was nowhere to be found. It must have been a dream he reasoned, but there was a slight soreness to his rear that shouldn't be there, and he was definitely more sated than he ought to have been. "Harry, if you're there, meet me here tomorrow night." he whispered, already hatching a plan to return the favor. Taking a few more minutes for his legs to stop shaking as though he'd been hit with a jelly-legs jinx, he staggered off to his room. As he went, he could have sworn he heard a whispered 'yes.'

END.

Okay, not sure where this came from. I haven't written anything smutty like that in a LONG time, so sorry that it sucks. Thanks for reading!

EDIT: Beta’d by the ever wonderful Aki-Hoshi! My god, I love this woman. If we weren’t both happily taken and/or otherwise unavailable, I’d be all over her. Check out her site at http://www.aki-hoshi.com/