Don't Get Caught
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
8
Views:
7,793
Reviews:
25
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
8
Views:
7,793
Reviews:
25
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
The Price of Pleasure
Dismantling the wards surrounding the Manor had been far easier than Harry imagined. So easy in fact, that he wonders if Scorpius deliberately sabotaged the protective spells, though how the boy could have known his intentions remains unclear.
No, the hard part, now he is inside the sprawling residence, is locating which bedroom Scorpius is in. His interrogation of Al regarding the layout of the Manor, which he believes he disguised cleverly as casual interest, narrowed the search to four rooms in the East Wing. Standing in front of one, Harry presses his ear to the wood.
Muffled grunts and gasps can be heard, interspersed with the sound of flesh frantically slapping flesh. He imagines Scorpius on the other side of the door, prick in hand and jerking himself off to thoughts of his Professor. If this is Scorpius’ room, Harry wants to replace that hand with his mouth. If it isn’t, he’s going to have a lot of explaining to do.
He hesitates a moment longer, in which time he argues internally that he’s come this far and if he retreats now he’ll be no closer to knowing the truth. He grips the door handle and turns it slowly, pleased that it makes no sound when the heavy wood swings open. Harry quickly slips inside and closes it just as carefully before turning around.
His mouth dries out instantly and within seconds he is painfully hard; Scorpius is at the far end of the palatial room, sprawled beneath a Slytherin green canopy. His toes are curled and his heels dig into the rucked-up counterpane. The blond head is tossed back, exposing creamy, lickable skin. The bicep in his right arm flexes every time he squeezes his cock. Like a moth destined for a fiery death, Harry begins to walk. He gets within a foot of the bed before Scorpius realises he is there. The boy is startled and his hand flies away from his swollen length but he doesn’t attempt to cover himself up. All too quickly, his surprised look turns predatory and he shuffles over in silent invitation.
Any questions Harry planned to ask are forgotten. Whilst he strips off, he notices Scorpius’ toes are still curled. More blood, as if any were needed, surges to his groin. Scorpius murmurs something about locking his door but he doesn’t manage to retrieve his wand before Harry is on top of him, settling his full weight and attacking his mouth hungrily. Scorpius wraps his hands in Harry’s hair and thrusts his hips up to intensify the natural rhythm their cocks have found, but it’s not enough for Harry, and his hand slips between Scorpius’ legs to tease his entrance. The boy’s moans are like a drug; Harry cannot get enough of hearing the sweet sounds Scorpius makes when his fingers slide into him, the short gasps when his prostate is teased. Most erotic of all, is the low growl Scorpius lets out when Harry lines his cock up and drives into such tightness that a man could go mad if he were denied it.
Harry buries himself as far inside Scorpius as it is possible to go before resting their foreheads together. Scorpius’ powerful legs are locked around his waist, and he gazes at Harry with unwavering intensity.
“You’re mine, aren’t you?” It is not really a question but Scorpius smiles and answers anyway.
“Yes, yours. Only yours.”
The admission forces Harry to the brink of orgasm and he pulls out and slams in while Scorpius tugs his own cock, both of them coming almost immediately. It’s been too long since they were last together, and neither makes any apology for the swift reunion.
However, Harry does take his time licking the strips of bitter fluid from Scorpius’ hard stomach, working his way across the firm chest and up under his chin until he finds his mouth.
Their kisses become lazy, and eventually Harry pulls back to look Scorpius in the eye. He says he cannot bear to think of anyone else doing this with him, that if Scorpius doesn’t feel the same way he should tell him now. Scorpius responds by dragging Harry down for a rough kiss, and Harry is sure he can feel the boy smiling against his lips.
It doesn’t matter how much he wants to stay and hold Scorpius in his arms until morning, he knows it is out of the question. Scorpius is quiet while Harry dresses. The look between them when he leaves, promises an immediate repeat of what has just occurred the moment they return to Hogwarts.
Back out in the hallway, Harry is distracted by the fresh memories he is taking home with him. He doesn’t see Draco at the foot of the long staircase until a familiar icy tone cuts into his thoughts.
“Potter. To what do we owe the pleasure?”
***
No, the hard part, now he is inside the sprawling residence, is locating which bedroom Scorpius is in. His interrogation of Al regarding the layout of the Manor, which he believes he disguised cleverly as casual interest, narrowed the search to four rooms in the East Wing. Standing in front of one, Harry presses his ear to the wood.
Muffled grunts and gasps can be heard, interspersed with the sound of flesh frantically slapping flesh. He imagines Scorpius on the other side of the door, prick in hand and jerking himself off to thoughts of his Professor. If this is Scorpius’ room, Harry wants to replace that hand with his mouth. If it isn’t, he’s going to have a lot of explaining to do.
He hesitates a moment longer, in which time he argues internally that he’s come this far and if he retreats now he’ll be no closer to knowing the truth. He grips the door handle and turns it slowly, pleased that it makes no sound when the heavy wood swings open. Harry quickly slips inside and closes it just as carefully before turning around.
His mouth dries out instantly and within seconds he is painfully hard; Scorpius is at the far end of the palatial room, sprawled beneath a Slytherin green canopy. His toes are curled and his heels dig into the rucked-up counterpane. The blond head is tossed back, exposing creamy, lickable skin. The bicep in his right arm flexes every time he squeezes his cock. Like a moth destined for a fiery death, Harry begins to walk. He gets within a foot of the bed before Scorpius realises he is there. The boy is startled and his hand flies away from his swollen length but he doesn’t attempt to cover himself up. All too quickly, his surprised look turns predatory and he shuffles over in silent invitation.
Any questions Harry planned to ask are forgotten. Whilst he strips off, he notices Scorpius’ toes are still curled. More blood, as if any were needed, surges to his groin. Scorpius murmurs something about locking his door but he doesn’t manage to retrieve his wand before Harry is on top of him, settling his full weight and attacking his mouth hungrily. Scorpius wraps his hands in Harry’s hair and thrusts his hips up to intensify the natural rhythm their cocks have found, but it’s not enough for Harry, and his hand slips between Scorpius’ legs to tease his entrance. The boy’s moans are like a drug; Harry cannot get enough of hearing the sweet sounds Scorpius makes when his fingers slide into him, the short gasps when his prostate is teased. Most erotic of all, is the low growl Scorpius lets out when Harry lines his cock up and drives into such tightness that a man could go mad if he were denied it.
Harry buries himself as far inside Scorpius as it is possible to go before resting their foreheads together. Scorpius’ powerful legs are locked around his waist, and he gazes at Harry with unwavering intensity.
“You’re mine, aren’t you?” It is not really a question but Scorpius smiles and answers anyway.
“Yes, yours. Only yours.”
The admission forces Harry to the brink of orgasm and he pulls out and slams in while Scorpius tugs his own cock, both of them coming almost immediately. It’s been too long since they were last together, and neither makes any apology for the swift reunion.
However, Harry does take his time licking the strips of bitter fluid from Scorpius’ hard stomach, working his way across the firm chest and up under his chin until he finds his mouth.
Their kisses become lazy, and eventually Harry pulls back to look Scorpius in the eye. He says he cannot bear to think of anyone else doing this with him, that if Scorpius doesn’t feel the same way he should tell him now. Scorpius responds by dragging Harry down for a rough kiss, and Harry is sure he can feel the boy smiling against his lips.
It doesn’t matter how much he wants to stay and hold Scorpius in his arms until morning, he knows it is out of the question. Scorpius is quiet while Harry dresses. The look between them when he leaves, promises an immediate repeat of what has just occurred the moment they return to Hogwarts.
Back out in the hallway, Harry is distracted by the fresh memories he is taking home with him. He doesn’t see Draco at the foot of the long staircase until a familiar icy tone cuts into his thoughts.
“Potter. To what do we owe the pleasure?”
***