Hot Blooded Harry

Title: Hot Blooded Harry part 6

Pairing: Harry/Oliver, Harry/Draco, Harry/Seamus, Harry/Justin, Oliver/?

Rated: NC-17

Warnings: Slash- male on male sex. Yup. That’s it. PWP, Het, and voyeurism.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters; J.K. Rowling is the one who does! She owns them all! I am making NO money off of this; this is merely for my perverted (and others) minds.

A/N- this part became a bit longer than originally planned, but it was necessary, I think.

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Sharing Passion

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When Harry finally made it back to the Gryffindor common room, it was almost 10:30. He felt like resting by the fireplace for a little while before he went up to his room. A bit sleepy, but yet very sated, Harry plopped down on one of the comfy sofas, leaned back, and sighed in contentment.

“Welcome back, Harry.” He heard a voice say to his left, making him jump.

“O-oh, hello, Oliver,” Harry said sheepishly. “Been here long?”

“Long enough to find out that you went off on a date,” he said, sounding a like he had just lost a Quidditch match. Harry gulped a lump in his throat. His body no longer felt relaxed, and it tensed even more when Oliver said, “Ron told me.”

Harry looked away, face burning with shame. He wanted to say something, anything at all, that would make Oliver feel better, but he couldn’t find the right words to say. Anything he thought of sounded stupid or useless. The only thing that he could think of at the time was, “I’m sorry.” It was in such a low and quiet voice, Harry was sure that Oliver missed it, but he looked over and watched as Oliver nodded his head and then looked away.

“So, who was it, Harry?”

Harry felt his heart begin to thump louder inside his chest. “You… you don’t want to know,” he whispered.

“Yes I do,” Wood said hoarsely. “I want to know, just so I know who to go beat the living shit out of.”

Harry sat up straighter, eyes now focused on Oliver, “No! Y-you really don’t want to do that, do you? I mean… that’s kind of conceited of you, isn’t it, Oliver?”

“Do you really think that I’m going to allow someone else to touch you?” Wood said angrily. “You’re with me, aren’t you? You’re supposed to be seeing me, right? So, I have the right to want to pummel anyone that had touched you.”

Harry gulped, also thinking about Justin and Seamus. “Oliver, please… you really don’t want to do that. Besides, it was…” Harry shut his eyes and gathered his courage, “It was for a reason. I had to.”

“So you were raped!” Oliver roared. “I knew it! Tell me, Harry. Tell me who the scum is so that I can bash his pathetic face into…”

“Oliver, please! You’re not bashing anyone!” Harry let out a frustrated growl and then stood up, “Never mind. We’ll talk about this in the morning. Good night.” Quickly he went toward the stairs that led up to the boys’ dorm.

“Harry!” He heard Oliver yell, and then suddenly a hand grabbed at his wrist and turned him around. He became face to face with his Quidditch instructor, brown eyes boring into bright green. “I want to know something first,” Oliver said, brows knitted tightly together. “Have I done something wrong to make you go off to someone else? Have I not given you enough attention?”

“No, Oliver, you haven’t done anything wrong,” Harry was beginning to feel so entranced by those beautiful chestnut eyes and that heavy Scottish accent. He couldn’t help gazing down at Oliver’s lips, and he licked his own unknowingly. “I’ve just… I’ve been bad, Oliver. That’s all. I’ve just been bad.”

“You, Harry? YOU have been bad?” Oliver cracked a smile, but only just a tiny one.

“I couldn’ help myself,” he slurred, “I was tempted.”

“Who were you with, Harry?” Oliver’s poise looked a bit calmer but his voice was full of sorrow, “Who’d you go see tonight?”

“Do you promise not to go and pummel him?”

“Yes. I promise I won’t. I just need to know where else you’re getting your… kicks.”

Harry blushed, adverting his gaze elsewhere. Finally, Harry said, “Malfoy.”

“Huh?” Wood blinked. “Did I just hear you right, Harry? Did you say… Malfoy?”

Harry nodded.

“M-Malfoy?” Wood said again, hardly believing it. And Harry nodded, again. “Why him?”

“Because he… he saw us behind the bleachers. The little bastard stood back and watched us, and then had the balls to approach me and threaten me. I made a deal with him, and so… we did it.”

“The bastard threatened you??” Oliver sneered. “Harry, you must let me pummel him now! He has no right to treat you that way!”

Harry blushed, “I think he was jealous, actually. Look, could you not approach him or anything? Because I don’t want anyone else to find out about this. If Malfoy finds out that you know, then he might start spreading rumors, or even worse…”

“Hmm. Well, I suppose since I did promise you that I won’t pummel him, and I don’t want to get you into trouble, then ok. But I still can’t help feeling, well, you know… hurt by this.”

“I know, and I understand. I’m really sorry, Oliver.” Harry reached up, took Wood’s face into his hands, and then kissed him soundly. Oliver wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist and kissed him back.

When the kiss broke, Harry tilted his head back and Oliver attacked his neck. Harry growled throatily, closing his eyes in bliss. He felt his heart speed up, despite his still wariness from his last activity. It wasn’t too arousing, but it felt good and relaxing. When Oliver nipped at his collarbone, Harry moaned approvingly.

Right before Oliver could get a hand past Harry’s waistline, someone atop the stairs cleared their throat. Both Harry and Oliver jumped in surprise, and then tried to act as if they weren’t doing anything strange.

“Uh, sorry to have interrupted you two lovebirds,” Seamus said, grinning absurdly, “but Harry’s got a letter from a strange owl on his bed. I was just coming down, hoping that he was back, to tell him.”

“Oh, thanks, Seamus!” Harry smiled innocently. He walked up the stairs as nonchalantly as he could, but when he reached Seamus, whom was giving Harry a strange look, he turned back to Oliver, “Um, good night.”

Oliver smiled, “Good night, dearest Harry. Sweet dreams.”

Harry smiled back, feeling his ears go red. “Oh, I will.” Then he turned and ran the rest of the way up the stairs.

“You and Harry, huh?” Seamus said with mirth.

“Yeah, I’m with Harry. What of it?”

“Wait… are you two seeing each other?”

“Of course. Why, what’s the matter?” Oliver demanded.

Seamus gulped. So, Harry was seeing Oliver Wood along with Justin Finch-Fletchley? And then he went and had a separate date from either one? There was another boy that Harry had gone off to shag? Seamus shook his sandy blonde head and then gave Oliver a quick smile. “Nothing. It’s nothing,” and before Oliver could ask anything more, he bolted up the stairs.

~***~

With a slight heavy heart, Harry went over to his bed and saw a small light brown tawny owl perched on the headboard. It had dropped the rolled up letter onto the pillow. Harry picked it up, slipped the black ribbon off, and then carefully unrolled it.

It read: Dear Harry, I hope that I haven’t done anything to upset you at all that would make you ignore me. Was I really *that* bad of a lover? Please let me know if we still have something together, because I’d like you to come to Hogsmeade with me this weekend. I’ll be waiting for your reply.
Love Always, Justin Finch-Fletchley

Shit. This whole ‘sow your wild oats’ thing was getting complicated now. How was he to go on this date with Justin when Oliver now seemed even more possessive and eager to be with him? And what about Draco? If he recalled, Draco was going to Hogsmeade this weekend too, and he probably would want him to come. Then again, Draco did know about Justin and Oliver, so if he told Draco the truth, then he could avoid that accident waiting to happen. Seamus knew about Justin and Oliver, so he wouldn’t care. Yes, the only problem he had right now was keeping Oliver from knowing. But just how long would that last?

Harry sighed. Fulfilling his every fantasy was becoming harder and harder every day.

Without any more hesitation, Harry took out a piece of parchment and a quill and began to write a reply:

Dear Justin, I would love to come to Hogsmeade with you. I’m really sorry that it seems that I’ve been ignoring you, but I’ve been really busy with homework and Quidditch lately, and haven’t had much time to think about anything else. You are a very sweet lover, just like a Hufflepuff should be. And I can’t wait to see you again.
Sincerely Yours, Harry

Smiling brightly, he felt happy with what he wrote. Harry rolled the letter up, tied it with a red and gold ribbon, and then gave it to the tawny owl. “Take this to Justin, ok?” he said. The owl hooted softly, and then flew out the open window from which he came.

“Now for bed.” Harry murmured. He got into his pajamas, crawled under the covers, and fell asleep with visions of beautiful boys surrounding him.

*******

Friday had come, which was also Quidditch practice. With tinted cheeks, Harry had entered the locker room restricted for Gryffindors only. Last time he had stepped in here, he and Oliver had been buck-naked and… he’d lost his virginity. Still blushing, Harry past by the bench where he and Oliver had expressed themselves, and wandered over to his locker. He stripped, put on his Quidditch clothing and gear, and then grabbed his broomstick.

Right before he got to the door, Oliver Wood walked in, already in his Quidditch uniform. The moment they saw each other, they both smiled. Oliver walked up to Harry and instantly placed a hand on one of Harry’s crimson cheeks.

“Ready, Harry?”

“Yeah,” Harry sighed blissfully.

“Good. I just need to go and grab my… broom. I’ll meet you out on the pitch.”

Harry nodded and then walked around his coach. He caught the innuendo that Oliver did, but decided to try ignoring it. If he didn’t, he’d be thinking of something else instead of practice, and then he’d have a really *hard* time flying. He reached the pitch, feeling slightly better than last night, and was about to mount his broom, when his eyes spotted a familiar green and silver robe streaking across the sky. “Malfoy…” Harry muttered. He stood there and watched the Slytherin in the air for a while more before getting on his broom and soaring up to meet the other flyer.

Malfoy hadn’t seen Harry until he almost flew right into him. He scowled lightly at his adversary, but then a small smile crept on his face. “Still able to sit on a broom all right, I see.”

“Yes, my ass is just fine.” Harry said, trying not to laugh.

“Maybe I can remedy that,” Draco drawled out playfully. He moved his Firebolt closer to Harry’s broom, and then nudged at Harry’s knee with his.

“I’m here to practice, Malfoy. Not shag.”

Draco sniffed pitifully, as if he just had his feelings hurt. “Must you put a damper on my day, Potter?”

“I don’t have to, but I want to.” Harry smiled mockingly. Draco glared. But before the handsome blond could retort, Oliver flew over to them, eyeing them both suspiciously.

“Are we going to practice, boys? Or are we going to just hover here and trade insults?”

“Actually, we’re practicing insults,” Draco scoffed. “Want to join us?”

Oliver lifted an eyebrow and smirked slightly. Harry knew that look. That was Oliver’s ‘my mind had just went straight into the gutter’ look.

“I would prefer if you wouldn’t insult each other while I’m here.”

“Then leave,” Draco said coolly. Harry held his breath, wondering how this event will turn out. Oliver already knew that it was Draco that he had been with that one night, and Harry hoped that he wouldn’t blurt anything out, like he promised. He could just see the jealousy plainly in Oliver’s eyes when he stared at Malfoy. The Slytherin Seeker was looking at Harry with hunger in his eyes, and he was sure that Oliver had noticed this also.

“I could say the same to you,” Oliver said through gritted teeth.

Malfoy cocked his head like a confused puppy, and it made Harry’s heart flutter aimlessly in his chest. He looked back at Oliver, and noticed that the Quidditch coach was struggling with a slight flush. Although Malfoy may be confused, Harry knew the double meaning to that sentence, so he flashed Oliver a warning glare. Oliver, unfortunately, didn’t notice the heated gaze coming from Harry as he continued to ogle the other lad.

“Whatever could you mean by that?” Draco said. He kept his head cocked to one side; a small smirk was playing on the edge of his lips.

“You know damn well what I mean, Malfoy. Leave Harry alone. Now.”

Malfoy grinned, finally catching on.

“No,” he said, eyes glittering challengingly, “YOU leave Harry. You’re old news.”

Both Oliver and Harry gasped.

“Why you little… you filthy little Slytherin tramp!” There was no denying it now, they knew about each other.

“You shouldn’t talk about Harry while he’s still here.” Draco grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Malfoy!” Harry snarled. At the same time, Oliver brought his broom around to get into Draco’s face. Malfoy’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Do—not—cross—ME—Malfoy!” Oliver sneered. “You should never of had your hands on MY boyfriend in the first place.”

“Oh?” Draco smirked, “Well, your so-called boyfriend had his hands all over me … and someone else, if I remember right.”

Now Harry was pissed.

“MALFOY! You little fucking…”

“You better be lying,” Oliver said, going red with anger.

“Hm, let me think…”

“This could take a while,” Harry said.

“Shut up, Potter. Ah, yes… you had let slip last night that you already had someone before you went on the date with me. If it wasn’t Wood, then who was it? Maybe it was Finnigan. Maybe it was Weasley. Or maybe it was someone from a different House…”

“That’s enough, Malfoy!” Harry shouted. He was so upset that if Draco said one more thing about him being with someone else other than Oliver or him, Harry was going to smack him off his broom.

“We could ask Weasley, of course.” Draco went on, not realizing how angry Harry was getting. “He might know whom The Great Harry Potter is shagging. For all we know, Potter could already have a date with someone entirely new this weekend…” that was the last straw for Harry. He backed his broom up, gave Malfoy a look that could whither a Whitherless Poison Weed, and struck Malfoy across the face with his fist.

“You insensitive little prick! Don’t you care about hurting my feelings? Or even hurting Oliver’s feelings??” In disgust, he turned his broom away; “I don’t want anything to do with you anymore, Malfoy! You can just go fuck yourself!” And then Harry sped off toward the other side of the pitch.

To Oliver’s surprise, he saw a slight pained look in Malfoy’s eyes, but then the Slytherin steeled himself, snarled (and he wasn’t sure if he was snarling at Harry or himself), and then made his way back down to the ground, right side of his lip bleeding.

Oliver wasn’t sure what to do about this situation. He still cared about Harry, even though he went off and shagged Malfoy, and then had it with someone else. He knew that the boy still cared for him, because of the kiss he got last night. It wasn’t just a normal kiss good night either, it was one that had emotion in it, Oliver was sure of it. He knew what he had to do now. He had to go and comfort Harry, and comforting Harry might lead to other things. Oliver blushed slightly, mind going straight into the gutter, and then he flew in the general direction of where Harry went.

He found Harry a minute later leaning his forehead against one of the goal posts, glasses in his hand. Oliver noticed right away that Harry’s shoulders were shaking, and that he was frowning deeply. When Oliver got closer, he then noticed that Harry had small tears sliding down his reddened cheeks.

“Harry, it’s ok. I’m not really mad at you.” Oliver found himself saying, even though he was feeling extremely jealous that others have touched the boy. “Everything will be all right, don’t let Malfoy get to you.”

He heard Harry sniff and then take a shuddering breath. “You shouldn’t be so easy on me, Oliver.” Harry said quietly. “I did something bad, even though I really never thought I was at the time. I wanted to feel good, to share that wonderful experience with other people, and make them happy. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I want to make them feel good.”

Oliver knew what Harry meant. He was just sharing his passion with others that wanted to touch Harry too. He understood that very well, because ever since he first saw Harry, he had wanted to touch him and make him feel the passion he desperately craved. He couldn’t blame Harry for being innocent in the games of sex, of not knowing the consequences.

“It’s all right, Harry. I understand. But sharing passion with others just makes a maddening circle of jealousy. I’m jealous that you went and did something with Malfoy, and Malfoy’s mad that you still have something to do with me. And whoever else you’ve been seeing will probably get hurt too, if he ever found out.”

Harry turned and gave Oliver an appreciative smile. He lifted a hand up to wipe away a few straining tears. “Thanks, Oliver. For understanding, that is. Maybe I should just forget about everyone, and just forget about sex all together.”

“Now, now,” Oliver said, grinning inanely. “Let’s not be too hasty. You know, I still want to be with you. Unless, of course, you’d rather be with… whoever else you’re with.”

“Justin,” Harry blurted, but then quickly covered his mouth with a hand. Blushing furiously, he looked away.

“Justin.” Oliver repeated, trying to keep his voice as normal as possible. “Are we talking about Finch-Fletchley?”

Harry nodded. “Yes. Him. I—I have a date with him this weekend. I’m sorry, Oliver, I didn’t mean for things to get so mixed up like this. I tried to tell him no at first, but for some reason I couldn’t let him down, and I just gave in. I just…”

“…Wanted him to be happy. Yes, I know. Look, Harry… you’re going to have to choose someday. You know that, don’t you?”

Harry looked up at him, a bit shy. “Do I have to?”

Oliver couldn’t help it, but he laughed. “Yes. Unless you want to be known as the Gryffindor whore.”

Harry’s cheeks burned brightly, but Oliver couldn’t see any kind of shame in those shining eyes. Was it possible that Harry didn’t care that he had done it with more than one man? He stepped closer to Harry, and then caressed his cheek with a hand. Harry’s cheek was still slightly damp from crying, but Oliver didn’t mind feeling that wetness underneath his palm. He stared into Harry’s big, expressive eyes, wide with wonder and love for the human touch. They were more expressive looking without those round glasses in front of them. The afternoon sun was casted on Harry’s face, and he could see a spot of golden light gleaming in his pupils.

“Harry,” Oliver gulped. “You’re too sweet to do that to yourself. You’re just too beautiful, and you…”

“Stop it,” Harry sniffled. He reached up and took Oliver’s hand away from his face. “You’re going to make me cry again.”

Oliver smiled nervously, then leaned forward and lightly placed a kiss to Harry’s lips. He squeezed Harry’s hand in his as he continued with the kiss, deepening it. Harry gave in to the sensation, feeling himself falling despite the fact that he knew that he shouldn’t be doing this sort of thing anymore. Yet, he told himself from the beginning that he wanted to fulfill his every fantasy, and that was what he had intended to do. He felt his sexual desire growing with every touch that Oliver was doing, with hands and lips. Before either one of them knew it, they were making their way toward the Quidditch stands. It was a different area this time, opposite of where the broom shed was, and it was quite a ways away from the locker rooms.

Harry wrapped his arms around Oliver’s neck and started to suck on his bottom lip harder. He wanted to feel the older man, and he wanted it right now. Tentatively, Harry rubbed his erection up and down Oliver’s thigh, and then lightly moaned into his coach’s mouth. Oliver reached down, past Harry’s waist, and grasped at the tip of Harry’s arousal. Harry let go of Oliver’s lips and then buried his head into his neck. He kissed a trail down Oliver’s neck, once in a while licking and sucking at certain parts that made Oliver moan low in his throat. Harry enjoyed hearing those husky tones that he could produce when he touched other men, and he learned quickly just where the more sensitive spots were on a person’s neck and other body areas.

“Oh, god, Harry…” Oliver growled in his ear. “You’re so insatiable, you bad little boy,” he gasped when Harry bit down on the bottom of his neck.

“Do you want me?” Harry asked, sounding innocent. He reached up and blew softly in Oliver’s ear, making the Quidditch coach shiver. “Do you want to take me?”

“Oh, yes. I want you…” Oliver shivered again.

“Then take me. I want to feel you inside me, right this second. Please.”

Now how could Oliver resist that? He moved his head down and started to suck Harry’s neck, getting Harry to groan and whimper. “Trousers off, then. Right now.”

“Mmmm…” Harry slowly started to undo the zipper on the front of his trousers, kicked off his leather boots, and then expertly slipped them off from underneath the leather knee guards and pads. He was wearing no underwear.

“How’d you learn to do that?” Oliver chuckled.

“It’s a secret,” Harry smiled. Without much hesitation, Oliver wrapped his calloused fingers around Harry’s hard length and began stroking. Harry leaned into that touch, gripping at Oliver’s shoulders and looking into that passionate gaze. Harry was trying his hardest not to shut his eyes when he felt a wave of pleasure run through him. Oliver was touching the most sensitive spots on the head of his cock, getting him to feel more on edge than he really was. Before he could get any more aroused, he stopped Oliver’s hand. “Hold on. I don’t want to come yet. You’re supposed to be inside of me, remember?”

“Oh yes, how silly of me,” Oliver smiled with mirth. He watched hungrily as Harry braced his hands on a support beam, backed his ass up, and spread his legs. His scarlet robe was still on, averting the nudity from Oliver’s eyes, but Oliver knew just what was hiding behind that flowing curtain.

Then Harry smiled at him, he gave him that smile, and said seductively, “Fuck me.”

Like a moth to a flame, Oliver came up behind Harry, unable to deny his libido any longer. He grabbed hold of the fabric that was around Harry’s waist, and then slowly started to lift it up. He slid it up until he could see Harry’s backside. He also noticed that Harry’s legs were shaking, and Oliver guessed that it was from desire and not from trying to hold himself up.

They didn’t have their wands with them, but Oliver knew that as many times as Harry had done it, he was sure that Harry wouldn’t get too hurt. He ran his hand up Harry’s back, up to Harry’s face and lips. Harry opened his mouth and Oliver stuck his fingers in. Harry sucked on those digits for a while, clearly understanding that they needed some kind of lube, even if it wouldn’t work as well. Secretly Harry was hoping for more friction, because he’d been too loose for too long.

“I hope I won’t hurt you, Harry,” Oliver said, and then he slipped his fingers from Harry’s mouth to Harry’s crevice. Harry spread his legs wider, indicating that he didn’t want to wait any longer. Oliver obliged, and slipped his fingers deeply into Harry. To Oliver’s surprise, or maybe not, Harry’s body practically swallowed his fingers. Harry sighed loudly, sounding very satisfied. He moved his hips around, which got Oliver to move his fingers. “You’re too eager, Harry.” Oliver breathed.

“I—I want you… Now.” Harry groaned. Oliver stroked himself a bit, bringing more moisture to the head of his cock. If Harry wanted him, Oliver thought, he was going to have him. He slid his fingers out, and instantly replaced it with his hardness. Every inch he slid in, he could feel Harry squeezing him, driving him crazy. When Harry cried out, pleading for him to give him more, Oliver pushed in all the way, producing another cry from Harry. Right when he did, though, he didn’t stop to wait. He pulled back out, and then pushed right back in, over and over, not relenting. Harry’s body was squeezing him tightly, but at the same time, it was gliding across his cock easily.

Oliver leaned down and kissed Harry’s ear, “You really like cock, don’t you, Harry?”

His response was a nod and then a loud gasp. Oliver didn’t let up; he kept up his steady thrusting, pace beginning to get faster each time.

“I like your sweet, firm ass, Harry… I love taking you.” He wasn’t sure why he had to tell him that; he was sure that Harry already knew.

Just as they were starting to increase speed, they heard a familiar, drawling voice, “My, my, my… what one finds while taking a walk around the pitch.”

They looked over and saw Draco Malfoy walking casually toward them, arms crossed over his chest, and a grim look plastered on his face. Harry wanted to be angry, but he found that he couldn’t. When Oliver stopped his thrusting, Harry whimpered in protest and started to push back into him.

“Don’t stop because of him,” Harry groaned. “Please don’t. He’s seen me in this state before, so ignore him.”

Oliver continued to glare at the intruder, but he slowly began to slide in and out of Harry again. Harry opened his mouth and let out a high-pitched squeak when he felt Oliver brush across his prostate.

Draco stopped right next to Harry, “So, your other boyfriend doesn’t blow your mind like I do, huh? Looks to me like you’re having just as much fun. May I join in?”

“What?” Harry and Oliver said.

“You heard me,” Draco sneered. “I want a piece of this action.”

Before Harry could say otherwise, Draco was on his knees in front of him, and his lips were wrapped around his cock.

“Malfoy!”

~TBC~