Harryrella

A/N: A big thanks and lots of huggles to my beta shadow_samurai. To know that you crack up when reading this, makes me feel tons better. **Hugs**.
Also please note, Lucius is just... well I'll let you see for yourselves. All characters are OOC.

Chapter 2

Malfoy Manor, eight o’clock in the morning, and not a sound could be heard. Well, that was not entirely true. If you listened closely, you could hear slight moaning sounds and bed springs squeaking. Prince Draco could never wake up properly without a vigorous wank, and today was no exception. As the blond Adonis lay on his back, eyes focused on the beautifully patterned ceiling, he fucked his fist with abandon and cried out into the still silence.

“Fuckin’, fuck, fuck! This need to pull my plonk every morning has to stop. I’ll go blind, for sure. Holy hell, I need a shag desperately!” Shaking his head, the sated prince made his way to his en-suite bathroom and turned on the shower. He washed quickly before making his way downstairs for breakfast, his mind turning to the busy day ahead - he was organizing his eighteenth birthday.

He was looking forward to becoming a man, but he was feeling so left out. His parents had taken charge of everything from the decorations to the invites. Draco didn’t have a say in anything and it was beginning to piss him off. As he sat in his throne-like chair in the dining room of the family manor, he eyed his parents warily. Both of them seemed to be plotting something, judging by the whispering and snickering. Clearing his throat, he decided to get their attention.

“Ahem, when you two have finished acting like David and Victoria fucking Beckham, do you think you could spare a few moments to go over some things with me?”

Narcissa Malfoy, who always liked to act a lady, was affronted at her son’s nonchalant behaviour and she made a point in telling him so. “Manners, Draco. You were brought up, not dragged up, and I won’t tolerate cussing at the breakfast table, ever.”

Draco kept his face expressionless as he muttered his next statement. “Fine, let’s go into the parlour and I’ll cuss there then, since there’s no food for either one of you to choke on, which you probably will once I begin to embarrass you both with my angsty attitude,” Draco said as he rose from the table.

His father snorted in a very un-aristocratic way as they both followed their pompous son to the massive parlour. “If you wished to talk to us, Draco,” Lucius drawled, “you could at least have the decency to use real words. ‘Angsty‘ indeed.”

Draco ignored his father and took a few moments to look around. ‘Same bloody view every pissing day. No wonder I’m so bored,’ he thought. Taking a deep breath, he decided to lay his cards on the table. “Right, I would like to order a tuxedo for my party”- he glared at the two elder Malfoys who were trying to interrupt - “and I thought I’d order one from a catalogue.”

“A catalogue? Have you lost what’s left of your bloody mind, Draco? You are a prince, or have you forgotten? Royalty do not get clothes from mail order. We’ll be the laughing stock of bloody Wiltshire,” Lucius Malfoy spluttered. Narcissa had to sit down and started fanning herself with her hand. Draco shook his head at the show of stupidity from his so-called parents.

“Oh bloody hell, Father, do pull yourself together. Do you see the Queen of England out shopping for groceries and clothing in the local supermarkets, huh?” They both shook their heads. “And where do you think they get their clothes? Oxfam?” Another shake of heads. “So I assume they either purchase via catalogue or they wear the same stuff every day until they stink. Now what do you think?”

After a pregnant pause from both parents, Draco was about to give up when his father spoke again, this time in a more dignified manner.

“M… maybe they have butlers or skivvies to buy their things, Draco. We, on the other hand, have a huge Rolls Royce to take us where we want to, and, of course, Dumb and Dumber upstairs.” Draco couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped when his father spoke about Draco’s two personal assistants, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. Not a brain cell between them, but they were fun to have around, especially at times like this.

“CRABBE, GOYLE!” Draco shouted and waited until he heard the familiar heavy footsteps from the two loons running down the stairs. They stopped in front of Draco and waited for their orders for the day. “Good morning, gentlemen. If you have a few hours to spare, could you both assist me with something?”

“Uh… guh, um yeah, no problem, boss,” Goyle stuttered. He nudged Crabbe painfully in the ribs, indicating he should answer.

“Oof! Wha’ chu do that for?” he choked out whilst poking Goyle in the back, hoping it hurt, and the two ended up prodding and punching each other while the stunned Malfoys looked on in distaste.

“WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU TWO? GET A FUCKIN’ GRIP; I’M HAVING A CRISIS HERE!” Draco yelled. The playful fighting stopped abruptly and both boys were sporting flushed cheeks. Draco led them all through the endless hallways and into the ballroom. They sat down in the far corner and outlined the plans for the night of his party.

************

It was three hours later before every detail had been carefully planned and all that needed to be done was organize the food, drink and entertainment. Lucius took this opportunity to put forth his idea. “We were thinking, your mother and I, that a big band would be appropriate for the evening. What do you think, Draco?”

Draco gaped at his parents. Surely they were taking the piss. “A big band? As in… trumpets, violins and all that shite? You have got to be kidding me, Father, seriously. I think you’ve been at the brandy or on some amphetamine. You are off your fucking trolley.A band?” Draco thumped his head on the table and laughed uncontrollably. This was way too much. ‘They have gone bonkers! I’m going to be eighteen, not fucking eighty,’ his mind was saying. Raising his head from its resting place on the table, Draco looked up to see the hurt expression flitting across his father’s face. He felt bad and selfish, and a little bit guilty. “I’m sorry, I know you’re trying to help, but really, Father, a big band? There are going to be lots of guys here between seventeen and twenty, and to be honest, I don’t think they would be up for the tango or the foxtrot. I was thinking more of a live band, you know?”

The vacant expression plastered on Lucius Malfoy’s face at that moment certainly looked out of place. His mouth was hanging open as he tried to envision his son’s idea of a band. Draco turned his nose up in disgust. “Oh for the love of Elijah Wood,” - smiling at the vision of the dark-haired beauty and hoping he would meet someone like him at his party- “stop bloody drooling, you look like a lovesick teenager on Viagra. Mother, go and shag him senseless while I order my tux and a decent band for Saturday. Oh, and one other thing, I want loads of champagne, the finest there is, please!”

Narcissa withdrew a lacy handkerchief from her bra and wiped the drool from her husband’s mouth before whispering in his ear. “Come, Lucius, let us retreat to bed and get you all better.” Lucius clamped his mouth shut and was already dragging his wanton wife up the stairs to their master bedroom before she even had time to finish her verbal seduction.

Draco left quietly and made his way to his room. There was nothing to do except read or think or play with himself for a bit. He decided on the thinking. It was less messy and if he was interrupted by the brainless duo, he wouldn’t be flashing his cock and testicles in their direction. “I hate being a fuckin’ stupid prince. I wish I could be normal. But then again, what is normal?” he pondered. Draco sighed and thought about his upcoming party. There were going to be so many males there, all wanting a piece of him because he was filthy rich and beautiful, but he wanted someone ‘normal’ who liked Draco as a person, not just his Adonis-like body and wealth.

“I bet every single one of them will be looking at me all doe-eyed, expecting to fuck my brains out after the party. Well they’re going to be extremely disappointed because I won’t give myself to the first guy who happens to look at me. I’ll know who I want, when I want him, and how I want him, and no one is going to tell me any different.” With this thought, Draco curled up on his bed and took a nap.

**********

The sun was hot and scorched his bare arms as he drove through the country in his black Porsche Boxster. Music was blaring from the car radio, a slow sensual love song, and he smiled as he looked at the person beside him. He was in love, absolutely, positively in love, and he liked it. The car stopped and he stepped out, sliding over the bonnet in a very sexy way and going round to open the door for his handsome passenger.

They walked hand in hand to a secluded area, then slowly kissed. A mop of black hair was fisted gently when the owner of the hair slipped a hand into his jeans and pulled out a very eager, hard cock. He was moaning and thrusting, and he knew he was going to come in his lover’s hand if the stroking didn’t stop. He was near completion when a loud bang broke them apart. “What the fuck?”

Draco sat bolt upright and stared at his surroundings. He was at home, in his bed, and not on a grassy bank with a dark-haired beauty. “Ah jeez, trust me to be dreaming. A Porsche? Where the fuck did that come from? And more to the point, where did that hot guy come from? Gah! I need to get laid, I’m so frustrated,” he mumbled as he dug around his bedside for his gay porn magazine. Finding it and whooping with delight, Draco was about to settle in for an intense wank when there was a soft knock on his door. Groaning in annoyance, he yelled the intruder into his room.

“Unless you’ve come to tell me that mother has made an appointment at the opticians then I don’t want to hear it, whatever it is you came to talk about,” Draco sneered at his father. How dare he barge in here when my cock and I were about to get it on.

“Opticians, Draco? Is there something wrong with your eyesight? I can ask our private optician to come over if you like.” Draco just looked at his father, who had just noticed the magazine clutched in his son’s hands. “Oh… um… I hope you were not about to um… spank the monkey! Were you, Draco? I see no signs of tissues, and your mother would be most displeased if you stained your black silk sheets.”

Draco felt the blush creep up his cheeks. He was reminded of the film, American Pie, for a minute, where the lad’s father did nothing but embarrass the son. He swallowed the lump in his throat and quickly stuffed the magazine under his bed. Not meeting his father’s eyes, Draco tried to form a coherent sentence. “Father, I… I… um… can I have a Porsche?” It was the only thing he could think of to stop the lurching in his stomach.

Lucius thought for a moment before addressing his sex starved teenage son. “I think, Draco, if you are going to continue fiddling with your bits, a pair of glasses will be more suitable than a Porsche, don’t you agree?”

Draco’s face was crimson now, and he wanted to disappear into a black hole and hide. Preferably a dark-haired beauty’s black hole, he mused. He couldn’t look at his father, who was sitting on the bed and staring out the window. “Father… I… I’m sorry if I embarrassed you. I’m just lonely, okay? I need someone to hold and love before I do go blind from all the wanking, and then I won’t be able to see them.” Draco was glad he could be open with his father sometimes, even if it was embarrassing. Although Lucius was shocked to see his perfect son masturbating to a sleazy magazine, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

“No need to apologise, Draco, I was eighteen too, once upon a time. I broke my wrist wanking, actually. Your grandmother was most affronted and told me she’d tie my hands together if she caught me doing it again. I just made sure I never got caught,” Lucius said with a grin.

“How on earth did you break your wrist wanking? Was your bloody cock made of steel or something? No, don’t answer that, I don’t need a visual. Oooh gross! My father has a steel dick! I’m going to take a walk in the gardens. See you at dinner.” Draco nodded to his father before quickly leaving the room. The vision of Lucius’ wanking was too much, and he knew the older Malfoy still did it. Maybe his mother did it for him sometimes. ‘Ewww het alert! That’s a scary thought, my mum and dad shagging and stuff. They’re way too old for that,’ he thought to himself. Even though he had told his mother earlier in the day to go and shag Lucius, he didn’t think she would actually do it.

“Disgusting, parents don’t do that sort of thing! Well they do, but it’s only to reproduce, and, well, I’m here now, and no siblings are needed, so they can stop acting like teenagers and help their neurotic son,” Draco said as he walked around the beautiful grounds.

Summer was definitely here. The aroma from all the flowers and plants in the garden was intoxicating. Draco sat on a white stone bench, gazing at the large fountain that was the centrepiece of the Malfoy gardens. Many people would visit this part just to relax in the tranquil setting for a while. The sound of footsteps caused Draco to turn around. He rolled his eyes as his father approached with two steaming cups of latte and two pieces of chocolate cake. “Thought you may need some brain juice, Draco,” his father drawled, handing his son a cup of coffee and a piece of cake. Draco nodded his thanks. “And you can tell me what kind of young man you are hoping will impress you on Saturday evening.”

They sat there for what seemed like hours and watched the sun set behind the hills. It was beautiful and Draco hoped he could watch it again one night with his lover. They talked about Draco’s ideal man and Lucius snorted at his son’s pickiness.

“You do realize, Draco, that these lads are from the cities. They will have no manners, certainly no etiquette, and will only be after your fortune. Easy lays, every single one of them.” Draco turned to his father and frowned. The elder Malfoy was right, but Draco wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Father, I know I’m blond, but I do know how to tell the difference between a spotty twat just out for a shag and my money, and a genuine young man who wants to get to know the real me. I just hope he’s there on Saturday. I don’t want to spend my night dancing with every single one of them hoping my cock approves,” Draco said with a grin.

Lucius made a face that resembled someone chewing a wasp, and cleared his throat. “I take it you rule your head with your penis then, Draco?” He smirked, raising an eyebrow. “However, you will choose wisely. You will choose a young man who you find not only attractive, but you can trust just by looking at him. Understand?” Draco nodded, unsure of where he would find such a person. Teenagers now-a-days ran amok in streets, mugging old ladies and stealing cars. He shuddered at the thought, but decided to wait and see what would happen at his party before judging everyone first.

***********
After dinner, Draco retreated to his room. Slipping off his royal cloak (which he wore every night for dinner), he took out his magazine again and let his mind drift to the dark-haired beauty of his dreams. He wanked himself raw, thankful he didn’t break his wrist with the speed his hand was moving.

TBC