Full of Stars

Waking up was hard. The sun shone directly onto Draco’s eyelids and he grunted with displeasure before he turned over the other way. However, he found that laying there that way, he couldn’t sleep because it somehow put too much pressure on his head and why in the fuck was there light shining into his eyes anyways? He had curtains! Angrily, Draco sat up and blearily glared around the room. The sun shone so much on his bed that the rest of the room was cast in dusty shadows and he had to pull his arm up to block its rays from his pounding head.

After a beat, Draco turned his head away and grasped the thick curtain and yanked it hard back into place.

“You awake?” he heard Goyle’s voice grunt out at him from impossibly far away.

“No, I’m sleepwalking. Argh!” he grunted as both hands moved up to his head as his own voice rattled through his brain.

Goyle moved from the shadows holding some water and a vial of something. “Professor Snape said that you should drink lots of water and this potion should get rid of your headache,” he said as he pushed the curtain open to reach through it.

Like a vampire, Draco squealed at the intrusion of light and gripped up the blankets to shield himself. “Fuck, Goyle, come around on the other side, asshole!”

“Oh. Uh, right. Umm. Sorry,” he said as he hastily retreated and pulled the curtains closed again and moved around to the other side of the bed.

Draco hadn’t even realized how dry his mouth was until he’d taken the water and started to sip it down. Getting through about half of the glass of water he reached out to snatch the vial from Goyle as he thrust the glass back into the bigger boy’s thick hand. He uncorked it and knocked it back and did the same exchange in reverse and gulped the remainder of the water down. At first it felt too hot, too wet, too much for his body. He thought for certain he was going to vomit it all back up.

Moving his free hand up to his mouth, his cheeks puffed out as if he were going to let it loose, but instead all that came out was a long belch and he started to instantly feel the pressure in his head start to lessen. “More water.”

Goyle took the glass from him and took off to the bathroom.

“Not bathroom water, Goyle!”

“But Sir, it’s just water… from the tap,” he said.

“But it’s been in… it’s from the… bathroom,” Draco said, emphasizing the word “bathroom” in order to stress the point that he wasn’t going to drink water from the same room he urinated in.

Goyle decided this wasn’t the time to point out that the water Draco had just imbibed had come from this particular tap. The boy was a little odd about things like this, things he expected that somehow everyone would see. Like which fork to use when, why he wouldn’t eat off of the school plates and instead had some he’d nicked from home. These were things that Goyle didn’t question, but learned to just accept and tried to emulate even though he didn’t know why he was doing it. Draco was smart. And if Draco thought that water from the bathroom tap was wrong to drink, then Goyle would get him the right water. Soundlessly, he headed out to the common room where there were pitchers of water and tea.

“And get me some tea, and my spoon from my trunk,” Draco ordered.

As Goyle slipped out of the room to fulfill Draco’s desires, the blond haired youth decided to once and for all face the music. He knew of his rotund roommate’s eagerness for him, and he was almost afraid to look under the covers. Giving himself to a count of three, he yanked back the covers and saw that not only was he fully clothed, but also he was still wearing his shoes. Though he let out a sigh of relief, part of him was slightly disappointed by this clothing revelation. Not that he’d really remembered anything going on, probably it would’ve come back in hazy pictures throughout the day as things such as that often did.

Still, he was in his bed with his shoes on and so first thing he did was the hoist his legs down off of the bed and using the toe of his other foot, pull off the heal ne sne shoe and then the other as he peered around the room. Next to his bed was a small picnic basket of food from his mum that she dutifully sent every morning. Pulling the box to him, he rifled through it for something that was of a bit more substance than Turkish Delight and settled on two bangers she’d wrapped up in an enchanted warming towel. They already sat on a small plate and Draco took his fork from the familiar place inside of the container. He speared one of the sausages and started to nibble at it hungrily. Not having a table to be proper at, he dismissed all etiquette for the moment. He wasn’t sure if it was the potion that made him so ravenous or the fact that he hadn’t really eaten the night before he’d started his drinking binge.

Halfway through devouring the second piece of tubular meat, Goyle came into the room. At first, Draco took little notice of him as the large boy darkened the door and then shut it behind him. For a moment Draco mused that Goyle’s expression of shocked arousal was due to the fact that there was food in his vicinity. Lowering his grey eyes to the sausage, however, the corners of his lips turned upwards and his eyes flicked back over to the boy. Draco pulled the fork just a little bit further from his mouth and turned the fork around so that the uneaten rounded end of the meat faced him. He then stretched out the tip of his hot pink tongue and swirled it lightly over his bulbous, juicy tube-formed meal.

Hearing the larger boy audibly inhale, Draco pulled it back. “Mum sends the best food,” he cooed before he pulled the piece of meat closer to him and gently wrapped his soft lips around it and made a big show of opening his mouth to flick his tongue out.

“Mmm… yes… it’s so good,” he whimpered before pushing it lovingly inside of his mouth. Tilting his head, he sucked his cheeks in as he slowly pulled it back out. “Mmmmmm.”

Goyle’s hands shook as he closed the distance between them and set the teacup and saucer down. In his other hand was the glass of water, which he also set on the wide nightstand. His eyes nevert tht the boy who was so enjoying his morning, afternoon really, meal. Abruptly Draco stopped his performance to petulantly tap his foot and glared meaningfully at his tea. Shaken from the desire-infused stupor, Goyle sped back to the end of Draco’s bed and rifled through his truo fio find his special spoon.

Though Draco had found the reaction amusing, he quickly had tired of that game and simply went back to eating his sausage as though nothing had happened. When Goyle returned to Draco with the boy’s prized piece of cutlery, he thrust the dish with the warming towel at Goyle in exchange. Now that he had his spoon he could easily stir in the bit of honey that he took in his tea. Setting the spoon down on the saucer, Draco finally looked up to speak to Goyle. “How did I get back to bed, Goyle?”

“I carried you.”

“Oh. Was I?”

“You passed out, sir.”

“I see. Well, my clothes are still on so I suppose we didn’t do much of anything,” he said as he watched Goyle’s face carefully. Not that the large dullard was nearly crafty enough to toss him into bed, fuck him, and then put his clothes back on correctly, but Draco wanted to be sure.

“You kissed me.”

“Did I?” he said with a sort of forced, trying-too-hard-to-be-casual sort of laugh. “Well, I was drunk, Goyle, don’t read too much into it.”

Though Goyle was crushed and did little to conceal it he said, “I didn’t, sir.”

Taking another long draw from the tea, Draco finally set the china down and lay back on his elbows to look at the large boy again. “Well, I suppose I should reward you for bringing me back safely and not running about telling everyone I kissed you.”

“I would never do that to you, sir.”

“Yes, yes, I know, very loyal. Like a dog. Could’ve been a Gryffindor, I get it.”

“Sir—“

“Shut up! All you do is talk sometimes, Goyle, it’s a wonder I get a word in!”

“Sorry, sir.”

“I tell you what, Goyle. Because you were good to me and I think you deserve a reward… you may suck my cock,” Draco said as he twisted his hips in a playful and enticing wriggle.

Goyle hadn’t noticed the boy’s erection before, but suddenly it was all he could look at. “I… Do you really want me to? I…”

“No, I don’t want you to, faggot. I’m not a queer. But I know you want to, so I’m going to let you,” Draco said as he unbuckled and unbuttoned his pants.

“Sir, I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t? Do you have lockjaw or something?” he snarked.

“No. I mean, I want to do it because you—we—“

“Look, Goyle. There is never going to be a ‘we’ or an ‘us’. This is a limited time offer and if you don’t take it now, I likely won’t be quite so charitable in the future and you will have missed your only opportunity to feel me in your mouth. Is that what you want, Goyle? So look, either you suck me off Right Now or stop nancing about telling me about how much you fancy me, sperm breath,” said Draco.

What could he do? Goyle wasn’t smart enough to defend himself against Draco’s skilled verbal barbs. Though it was clear that a completely straight boy wouldn’t even entertain the idea of allowing another bloke to suck his cock, and that Draco had a basket full of sweets that he’d used to reward Crabbe and Goyle with in the past, Goyle didn’t see these things at all. But then again, even the idea of seeing Draco’s erection, of savoring it in his mouth, of pleasuring him so intimately had made what little activity that usually went on in his brain hazed over with lust. With an air of defeat, Goyle dropped down to his knees as Draco scooted his ass to the edge of the bed.

Goyle reached forward, sliding his hands along the insides of Draco’s thighs as the smaller boy responded by arching his back gracefully and letting out a small groan of pleasured anticipation. Though Draco had somewhat opened his pants, his length was still cloistered behind the thin fabric of his silken boxers. Though Goyle tried to pull the pants down to reveal more of Draco, his hands were swatted at for their efforts. “No, Goyle. Just take it out and suck it. We’re not making love,” he hissed as his eyes narrowed down on the large gay boy.

Frowning a little at the rebuke, Goyle was still mostly undeterred. If this were the only chance he was getting, he would make it worthwhile. Or at least try to. “I’ve never umm… done this,” Goyle confessed.

“Taken a cock out of boxers?” Draco shot back through an excited sneer.

“No,” Goyle felt compelled to answer. Draco simply rolled his eyes. He knew what the dullard was getting at, he just couldn’t resist taunting him.

“Fine. Just don’t bite. Wrap your lips around your teeth like this,” he demonstrated. “And use your tongue a lot. And for god’s sake, no matter what happens, keep sucking.”

The brutish boy gave a nod and then reached forward to undo the small button of the sleek boxers and tenderly reached in his chubby fingers. Though rigid, the feel of the skin over it was rapturously soft and velveteen in a way that Goyle had never imagined skin could really be. Plucking it out from the fabric, he caught the soft down of Draco’s pale pubis with his pinky and strained to let it slide back away from him. The erection was solid, larger than he’d imagined it would be from such a small boy. The head of it was a swollen purpled-vein color that faded down to a dark dusty pink at the base. Still, despite its lurid appearance against the alabaster boy, it was smooth and lustrous against Goyle’s comparatively rough and dark, thick hands.

Draco was highly amused at watching the larger boy’s keen and worshipful attention to his manhood. His eyes hooded in the sensation of touch, although the brown eyes locked to his most prized possession was an almost tangible stroking. The erection pulsed slightly; leaving a clear dribble of liquid at the opening that Goyle greedily leaned forward to slide his tongue over. Draco’s head fell back in the thrill of the warm moisture of the muscle sliding against him and he gasped at it.

Needing no further prompting, Goyle lurched himself forward, launching his mouth solidly over the rod, impaling his mouth with it as far as he could get it inside of him. The taste and smell of the boy was of a musty saltiness that was freshened only slightly by the mint and rosemary wash he used on himself. He swirled his tongue as he pulled back and then he slid him in again on the other side, feeling the pressure from the head of his erection bulging out his cheek before again he moved the man out. Goyle’s brown eyes peered up at Draco, watching his reactions as his lips created a tight suction around his erection.

Letting out another feral growl, Draco shifted his weight to one elbow as his fingers curled into the short shock of standing hair on Goyle’s head. He was surprised at how well Goyle was doing and mused that perhaps he’d perused some magazines of some sort. Looking down at the larger boy, he certainly was bobbing his head about in an exaggerated performance; much more lively than he’d ever seen Pansy or anyone else he’d allowed to do this do. Draco’s fingers tightened in the boy’s hair and his hips picked up the steady and insistent rhythm that Goyle had built with his slurping mouth.

Draco closed his eyes now as he felt his body starting to tingle, the familiar build up in his chest and abdomen of nerves that were slowly trickling through their wild sensations that drew his scrotum up tight against his body in preparation for release. His elbow slid out from under him and his back lay flat on the dark velvet duvet, still mostly clothed with Goyle’s dark head buried firmly in his crotch. His pale hand clutched mercilessly at Goyle’s hair and his hips picked up a wild rhythm as Goyle gagged and sputtered from having the back of his throat brutally savaged by the tip of Draco’s manhood. The loud slurping and gaggin only seemed to drive Draco further on, making him rip his hips obscenely into the boy’s mouth as if he were nothing more than a worthless recepticle for his sperm. He could feel Goyle’s sticky drool sliding back down his erection and pooling in his nest of blonde pubic hair and being soaked in by his boxers.

“Fuck!” he cried out at long last, spraying deeply into Goyle’s open, suctioning mouth. Goyle felt his mouth fill with the warm ejactulate and attempted to swallow, but was too slow for the forceful release and his mouth soon overfloweed with it. The warm seed dribbled out of the corners of his mouth as he still furiously swallowed, still gamely attempting to keep the jumping length in his mouth. Finally the ropey leavings stopped emmantating from the pale boy and his fingers loosened in Goyle’s hair and then dropped away altogether as Draco’s chest heaved in an attempt to recapture his breath.

Loathe to let this moment end, Goyle’s hand moved up to his mouth and quickly he wiped away the escaped sperm and continued to lick and suckle at the waning erection. Draco’s body jolted as the overly sensitive organ was still being tended to and almost lazily, he pulled a foot up and kicked Goyle back by the shoulder, knocking him against the neighboring bed. “That will do, Goyle,” he gasped out as he just lay there luxuriating in afterglow. “Get out.”

“But-“

“Out. Now.”

Without further questions and protests, Goyle got up. Wiping his face on the sleeve of his shirt to clear away the remnants of Draco’s leavings, the large boy headed for the door. He gave one last mournful glance back, but Draco didn’t seem at all interested in anything but laying still on the bed. So finally, Goyle simply walked out to wait for the boy in the Common Room as if nothing happened.