Literature, Smut, and Adult Themes
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
40
Views:
14,611
Reviews:
18
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
40
Views:
14,611
Reviews:
18
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, and I do not make ANY MONEY from these writings.
Chapter 22: Beauty Is...
We pick up in the gray area between Chapter 6 and Chapter 7, just after Harry’s visit to Draco in the Hospital Wing. Italics denote my own writing, from last chapter.
Harry bolted, doing his best to maintain speed and yet keep under his cloak. As soon as he got to his bed, he jumped in, wrapped himself in his covers, and grew hard again. However, he fought the urge to wank – for some reason, Draco’s admission had been more pure than any sexual fantasy that Harry had been able to think up.
He went to bed a very confused boy.
The next evening, he and Ron found themselves alone in their bedroom. Dean and Seamus had both gotten detention for some prank (it was really Fred and George’s fault – they made the two of them do it). Neville was off in the library, worriedly perusing the stacks for something to write about for an essay.
Hermione had left them alone as she was focused on a Muggle Studies project – no one still knew how she had the time, but somehow, she did.
Harry was lying on his stomach on his bed, legs up in the air, flipping through their potions textbook; Ron, however, was more distracted, and casually rubbing himself as he stared at the ceiling of his bed’s canopy.
“Who’s your perfect woman, Ron?” Harry asked quite suddenly; Ron yanked his hand out of his trousers and took a deep breath.
“What d’you mean?”
“Is she tall or short?”
Ron paused for a moment, before replying, “I’d like her to be a couple of inches shorter than me. You?”
“My height,” Harry said without thinking, “Hair colour?”
“Definately brunette...can’t go with anything else.”
“I think...I’d like a blonde,”
Ron sat up, and looked over at Harry, “like who?”
Harry blushed a bit, and then quickly retorted, “like that girl on the last page,”
“Yeah, she was something, wasn’t she?” Ron lay back down, contented. “I’d want my girl to be kind of thin, but with nice big tits,”
That’s kind of vulgar, Harry thought to himself, before continuing “mine would be athletic but pristine...nice and slim.”
“Meh...” Ron added.
Ron’s comment temporarily ended the conversation – he didn’t have anything to say, and Harry was working up his confidence to ask his next question.
“Do you find any other types of girls attractive?” Harry swallowed, stammering, “or, uh, m-mayb-be a g-guy?”
“A guy? Ew...gross,” Ron said in an as-a-matter-of-fact voice, “I like wanking with you, Harry, but that doesn’t mean that I think you’re good looking or anything.”
“I know,” Harry piped in before Ron finished his sentence, “j-just, uh, y’know, checkin’,”
Harry smiled weakly, and Ron shrugged.
An awkward silence filled the room, but Harry was sure that Ron could hear the sounds of his heart beating 300 beats per minute and of his hardened cock rubbing into the bed.
“Speaking of which,” Ron said after a minute more, “Wanna get off before everyone else gets back?”
“Not really, should keep reading,” Harry answered.
“Y’know it’ll be fun,” Ron rolled off the bed and walked over to Harry, pointing out the tent in his trousers.
“No,” Harry said in a very forceful voice. Ron took a step back, wilted a bit, and then angrily said “you don’t have to bite my head off,”
“Just...take care of it yourself,” Harry replied, softening his tone.
“Yeah, I think I will,” said Ron through grit teeth. He walked over to the washrooms, and then slammed the door behind him.
A wave of tears suddenly hit Harry, and he couldn’t compose himself...instead, as soon as the shower turned on, he started crying. Would Ron hate him if he knew that he...maybe found Malfoy attractive? What would he think? Would they stop getting off together? Would they stop being friends?
He had made it through eleven years at the Dursleys without so much as a tear; for the first time, at Hogwarts – his real home – he cried himself to sleep.
Harry bolted, doing his best to maintain speed and yet keep under his cloak. As soon as he got to his bed, he jumped in, wrapped himself in his covers, and grew hard again. However, he fought the urge to wank – for some reason, Draco’s admission had been more pure than any sexual fantasy that Harry had been able to think up.
He went to bed a very confused boy.
The next evening, he and Ron found themselves alone in their bedroom. Dean and Seamus had both gotten detention for some prank (it was really Fred and George’s fault – they made the two of them do it). Neville was off in the library, worriedly perusing the stacks for something to write about for an essay.
Hermione had left them alone as she was focused on a Muggle Studies project – no one still knew how she had the time, but somehow, she did.
Harry was lying on his stomach on his bed, legs up in the air, flipping through their potions textbook; Ron, however, was more distracted, and casually rubbing himself as he stared at the ceiling of his bed’s canopy.
“Who’s your perfect woman, Ron?” Harry asked quite suddenly; Ron yanked his hand out of his trousers and took a deep breath.
“What d’you mean?”
“Is she tall or short?”
Ron paused for a moment, before replying, “I’d like her to be a couple of inches shorter than me. You?”
“My height,” Harry said without thinking, “Hair colour?”
“Definately brunette...can’t go with anything else.”
“I think...I’d like a blonde,”
Ron sat up, and looked over at Harry, “like who?”
Harry blushed a bit, and then quickly retorted, “like that girl on the last page,”
“Yeah, she was something, wasn’t she?” Ron lay back down, contented. “I’d want my girl to be kind of thin, but with nice big tits,”
That’s kind of vulgar, Harry thought to himself, before continuing “mine would be athletic but pristine...nice and slim.”
“Meh...” Ron added.
Ron’s comment temporarily ended the conversation – he didn’t have anything to say, and Harry was working up his confidence to ask his next question.
“Do you find any other types of girls attractive?” Harry swallowed, stammering, “or, uh, m-mayb-be a g-guy?”
“A guy? Ew...gross,” Ron said in an as-a-matter-of-fact voice, “I like wanking with you, Harry, but that doesn’t mean that I think you’re good looking or anything.”
“I know,” Harry piped in before Ron finished his sentence, “j-just, uh, y’know, checkin’,”
Harry smiled weakly, and Ron shrugged.
An awkward silence filled the room, but Harry was sure that Ron could hear the sounds of his heart beating 300 beats per minute and of his hardened cock rubbing into the bed.
“Speaking of which,” Ron said after a minute more, “Wanna get off before everyone else gets back?”
“Not really, should keep reading,” Harry answered.
“Y’know it’ll be fun,” Ron rolled off the bed and walked over to Harry, pointing out the tent in his trousers.
“No,” Harry said in a very forceful voice. Ron took a step back, wilted a bit, and then angrily said “you don’t have to bite my head off,”
“Just...take care of it yourself,” Harry replied, softening his tone.
“Yeah, I think I will,” said Ron through grit teeth. He walked over to the washrooms, and then slammed the door behind him.
A wave of tears suddenly hit Harry, and he couldn’t compose himself...instead, as soon as the shower turned on, he started crying. Would Ron hate him if he knew that he...maybe found Malfoy attractive? What would he think? Would they stop getting off together? Would they stop being friends?
He had made it through eleven years at the Dursleys without so much as a tear; for the first time, at Hogwarts – his real home – he cried himself to sleep.