Broken Toy

Warnings: Smut, language and smut…
Author's Notes:
It’s been quite a while since I posted the last chapter.
Okay, there were the holidays... But at the same time I was forced to acknowledge that my English isn’t perfect at all…
If it hadn’t been for your nice reviews here at AFF, I really don’t know if I would have gone on. Writing, yes, but posting?

I thank you all and am really disappointed that I can never react to any review on this site.

Enjoy the next chapter, it’s a long one; and I like it very much *g*

ETA: Beta'ed by ravenqueeen55!

Chapter Eight

As soon as the two young men were back at the cottage, Potter promptly headed to the kitchen to pour out two large glasses of apple juice mixed with sparkling water, as some cool refreshments were in order. Both of their thoughtful faces held a tinge of red, and tiny streams of sweat were running down their bodies, dampening the front and back of their shirts. They had been marching silently at a quick pace in the increasing heat for an hour, not once looking at the other, not even acknowledging the other’s presence. The emotional outbursts of the morning had left neither of them untouched, but each of them hid his inner turmoil for his own reasons.

In a hurry, Potter raised his tumbler of ice-cold apple juice to his lips and drank greedily. As thirsty as Draco was, his hand never reached his dry mouth; it simply stopped in midair.

Fascinated, Draco gaped as the Potter gulped down the refreshment, following every motion of his Adam’s apple as it quickly moved up and down. Draco simply couldn’t keep his eyes off Potter’s sun-tanned throat, glistening with sweat. His eyes widened, eager to take in as much of the irresistible sight as he could.

Spellbound, Draco let his gaze wander up toward the round, slightly steamed up spectacles, then down to the slender but powerful hand holding the tumbler of apple juice. His lips were opening unconsciously when he noticed that every now and then, due to the hasty drinking, Potter was spilling some of the light amber liquid.

Draco couldn’t help it, his eyes had to follow those droplets of apple juice down from the corner of the sensible mouth to the distinctive line of the jaw. One drop lingered there, and Draco’s eyes rested for a moment on the badly shaven chin, taking in every bit of the dark stubble. Hesitantly, the drop proceeded slowly down the soft line of that gorgeous throat, joined the little streams of sweat and vanished past Potter’s drenched shirt collar. Although Draco couldn’t see the drop any more, his mind’s eye accompanied it further down. He knew that it found its way down the sweat-covered plane of Potter’s firm chest, running down toward his navel. The waistband of Potter’s ridiculous shorts kept the drop once more, but only for a short time. The sticky droplet continued down the sweet line of fine dark hair on his flat belly until it reached the thick, black curls. Having at last reached its destination, the tiny bit of fluid came to a halt, quivering a little.

Draco instinctively held his breath, his heart beating fast. He visualized vividly how the droplet was absorbed by the soft flesh of Potter’s luscious penis, resting innocently in the comfortable shelter of his boxers.

With a satisfied grunt Potter lowered his glass and licked his lips with obvious enjoyment. His contented smile vanished the second he met the unconcealed hunger in Draco’s eyes.

The glass tumbled out of Potter’s hand and hit the kitchen floor with a loud crash. But neither of them noticed when the glass exploded into a thousand pieces.

Nothing else existed except hunger and incredulity, disbelief and reluctance, attraction and disgust, longing and fear.

Without thinking about it, without thinking about anything, Draco moved closer toward the man staring at him with those magnificent, green eyes.

Draco observed with wonder that the beautiful eyes opened even further the closer he got. He simply knew that he had to lock his gaze deeply with the other man’s stare now, to hold the gaze, to intensify it. He was determined to sink completely into those deep, emerald depths.

Absolutely unaware of it, Draco’s own grey eyes turned a shade brighter, losing their typical coldness. Gradually his whole face lit up with an unaccustomed, blissful smile. A disquieting sensation upset his stomach, making him feel sick and excited at the same time.

Just a few inches parted the two men. Expectancy of something extraordinary, something simply wonderful, was spreading through Draco’s whole body. He was mildly alarmed when he could feel his heart pounding in his throat as well as in his stomach. Yet he didn’t mind his wet hands at all, not even registering that his breathing had become audible.

More sensing than actually seeing it, he knew that Potter’s hands were slowly reaching up in the direction of his face. Still their wide-opened eyes were locked together. His own panting was mingled with another sound. Potter was breathing as loud as he was.

Goosebumps tickled Draco’s forearms. He shuddered slightly in anticipation. Any second now, Potter’s hands would touch his chin, cup his face, pull it down to …

“HARRY? - HARRRRYYYY! ”

The back door of the kitchen flew wide open, and a striking beauty with long black hair flying all around her rushed in. She saw Potter and immediately pulled him into a tight embrace.

“You are all right!” White hands grabbed the black shock of hair and ruffled it. “You are all right???” The hands were running down Potter’s neck to his shoulders and rested on his chest, slightly digging into the muscles with the tips of her long fingers.

Draco backed away a few steps, still breathing hard.

What???

Potter had said he wasn’t married! Of course, that didn’t exclude a girlfriend. Or even worse, a fiancée. The tension that was still enveloping his body hit his tummy like a shock. Disgusted, Draco sensed a nagging feeling of annoyance. But the recently awakened Slytherin-snake soothed his confusion right away. “So what?” , its little voice hissed inside his head. “I’ll take care of her…And him… Soon she’ll be just be a memory…”

Draco’s lips curled up into a sneer.

An angelic face turned up toward Potter’s strained half-grin. “Please tell me that everything is all right!” Potter’s grin relaxed, then broadened. The young man enfolded the beautiful girl into a warm embrace and placed a little kiss upon the tip of her nose. Draco’s annoyance flamed up into anger immediately.

“But of course. Everything is all right. I guess you found the barn? Nothing to worry about… I just had to… well, let out a little bit of steam.”

“Cool, and I have to build it up again. You know, I’m a little bit tired of it by now... “

The new voice belonged to an astonishingly good-looking youth. The guy clapped Potter on his shoulder. “You know, every time we find the barn smashed into pieces, we have a heart attack.” Another clap upon the shoulder, and the handsome face turned in Draco’s direction. The good-natured smile vanished instantly.

Potter entangled himself out of the girl’s embrace. “Ah. Gwen, Lance, may I introduce you to our guest. ” Potter patted Draco slightly on his forearm. “This is Malfoy.”

Draco tried to put on his best welcoming expression. But his grin froze, not able to comprehend, when for the second time this day, Potter placed himself right in front of him, head held up high. Very conscious of the virile body so near to him, Draco stared at the back of the man’s head. The twins – for it had to be the twins – gaped at Draco in utter disbelief.

“Malfoy?”

“Harry, no!”

“Our guest? By the love of Merlin, you can’t expect us to…?”

“Please don’t tell me…”

“But it can’t be him…”

“His long blond hair is right, his face is right.”

“But he is too young! Far too young! Who…”

“It can’t be him. He’s dead!!”

“He’s his son.” Potter’s calm voice interrupted the hectic exchange of exclaims. “It’s Draco Malfoy, not Lucius.” His body became more upright, tenser; his shoulders were brushing slightly against Draco’s chest. If Draco moved his head just an inch or two forward, he could sink his nostrils right into the incredible mass of black hair, giving in to the tantalizing, tempting scent that was dazzling his mind.

“But I’m sure,” and now Potter’s back was touching Draco’s chest completely, shielding him with his entire body, “that you agree with me that no son’s responsible for his father’s actions.”

Thunderstruck, at last coming to his senses, Draco managed a “But I…”

“Shut up.”

The curt command made Draco close his mouth instantly. Potter was almost a head shorter. But the sudden heat he could sense around the smaller form in front of him, the power radiating, told him better not to argue.

Potter’s voice was gentle, almost lovingly, when he addressed the twins again. “We still have no proof. The only thing we know for sure is that when your parents were killed, Knott, Goyle and Malfoy were present. But we don’t know who of the three actually killed them….”

A shudder ran down Draco’s spine. Not daring to move, not daring to reveal with any motion that he was still present, he focussed his gaze upon the floor, not wanting to meet the eyes of the twins ever again.

A long silence followed. Draco wasn’t sure what was going on, for he didn’t dare to look up. Reality hit him with such force it took his breath away. His knees felt weak; and his eyes burned with sudden, unwanted tears. Soon his stomach started to ache with well-known fear.

He was to be punished.

Even after death Father was able to cause him pain. Even after death Father could blame him for something he wasn’t responsible for. He was to be disciplined because he was a Malfoy.

And Draco had tried to live up to his name. Gods, he had tried to. Just to please Father, just to get one smile, just one single, approving smile. He had accepted the Dark Mark. And he even had accepted the task that was connected with it. Killing Dumbledore… Just to please Father. Not Him. He had never cared a shit for Him.

He had wanted to be a real Malfoy so badly. He had yearned to be the rightful son of his father. And he had messed it up. And afterwards, he had been glad to!

The wrath of his ancestors was unavoidable. He hadn’t complied with the rules. He had to be punished. And he deserved it.

Waves of fear, like little sharp knives, were slicing into his stomach. The salvia inside his mouth tasted sour, rotten. He felt like retching.

Suddenly it all made sense.

That’s why Potter had brought him here to his home far away from civilisation with all these strange creatures. To get his vengeance.

Draco was to be punished.

Now.

And this time it would be hard on him. Pain. He knew it. Pain, again and again. He was sure of it. No… Please… No pain… Please, don’t. Don’t hurt, don’t hurt me…

Draco pressed his eyelids tightly shut. A last deep breath in, a last breath out.

As he had done hundreds of times before, Draco’s conscious self hid in the farthest corner of his mind. It was a common place. It was safe. No one could find him there; no one could reach him there; no one could touch him there. They could hurt his body, yes, but not his soul.

He knew that the body he had left was trembling. And he knew that the body he had left was crying.

There was no one there to help him.

There never had been.

He was alone.

He felt safe in his hideout where no one could find him. He would hide there until it was over…

Until it was over…

Over…

Goosebumps rushed over his body when he felt a gentle touch upon his cheeks. A touch so tender, as if his face was made of something fragile.

Harry…

Harry??

Slowly Draco came back to his senses. Like awakening from a deep dream, Draco opened his eyes. He couldn’t manage it as fast as he wished; the sticky liquid of salty tears had glued his eyelids together. But after blinking a few times, he was able to adjust himself to his surroundings.

Bright emerald eyes were the first impression that penetrated the grey mist of fear still surrounding him. Feeling reassured at once, although he didn’t know why, he let his dazed eyes wander around, only to meet two dark pairs of eyes displaying mild disgust mingled with pity. Plain discomfort spread through his insides; and he shifted his gaze at once. Searching. For him. Where…?

And locked with bespectacled, bright emerald eyes again.

Potter was staring up at him intently with a strange expression Draco couldn’t interpret at all. His dazed mind realized that Potter had been cupping his face with both of his palms only when he slowly let go of it again. The sweet sensation of the unaccustomed tender touch lingered on his face for a long time after.

Draco felt himself being led away. One warm and gentle hand was half supporting his elbow and half-guiding him toward the living room, away from the departing twins. And his legs followed obediently.

Whilst Draco was still occupied with struggling to regain his full consciousness, the Slytherin inside him knew one thing for sure. For it hadn’t been dazed at all. It had detected and followed the longing eyes of the girl towards Potter’s chest, where the man’s nipples were clearly visible under his white, sweat-damp shirt. And it had noticed the desperation of the boy. The guy had wanted to touch Potter on his shoulder to bid him farewell, but his hand had grasped into nowhere when Potter had turned around. Disappointment had mingled with hopelessness on the youth’s face when he left the kitchen, clasping his arms around his twin sister.

Yes, one thing the Slytherin knew for sure: Both of the twins were deeply in love with Potter.

The tiny snake reacted at once. It was easy to manipulate Draco’s steps. Just let him stagger a little… So that Potter didn’t have any reason to look back at the departing twins, and concentrated all of his attention toward Draco.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

If Draco had expected any sort of consolation, he had speculated wrong. After having been encouraged to sip down a few cups of hot, strong tea and to stuff some sweet biscuits into his mouth, Potter had left him.

He had some business to attend to, some urgent business. “I’ll be right back again. Won’t take long. In the meantime… well, just stay here in the living-room, make yourself at home.” And he Disapparated with a loud “crack.”

During the first hour of Potter’s absence, Draco did feel comfortable. There hadn’t been any punishment. Nothing had turned out as he had feared. No vengeance. No pain. And he didn’t have to work tonight. At least not on the Restricted Corner.

Smirking slightly, he got rid of his shoes and socks, stretched his long legs, yawned extensively and then sprawled his whole body lazily across the dark-blue sofa. For a while, he just dozed a little. His arms were enclosing one of the cushions, which had been draped on the blue-shaded furniture. With a small smile, he buried his face inside the soft fabric and inhaled the scent of the material. It smelled… yummy. There was a trace of…Harry.

Contented, Draco drifted off into a light dream.

About an hour later, he woke up feeling definitely uncomfortable.

Two hours later, he couldn’t sit still any more.

Rocking back and forth, he was silently singing silly songs to distract himself from his agony when a loud “crack” startled him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry felt absolutely satisfied when he Apparated home again. But to watch a grown man sink down from his sofa and collapse on the ground reversed his peaceful attitude instantly.

Two quick intakes of breaths did the trick. No irritation. No anger.

“Hey, there.” Harry reached down to help Malfoy up again. “Sorry.” After being assured Malfoy was sitting in an upright position again, he went on. Better play nicely before Malfoy freaked out once more.

“You see, I’m used to be living here alone, and I didn’t even think about the fact that I might scare you… there was no one here to frighten before… I won’t do it again, ‘k? Sorry.”

What else could he say? He had apologized. So why was Malfoy looking at him as if he was being tortured?

Harry sat down beside the tense man, wanting to tell him the news, almost bursting with the need to do so. “Now… What the hell’s the matter???”

For Malfoy clutched his belly with both arms, leaned over unexpectedly and buried his head between his knees.

“What the heck…?”

Harry couldn’t believe his ears when he heard a small voice begging, “Can I use the bathroom now, please?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A still flabbergasted Harry was sitting alone on the enormous sofa, staring into space, when Malfoy returned to the living room. As soon as the tall man entered, Harry gestured towards the blue furniture, inviting Malfoy to sit down. Shortly after he was seated beside him, Harry burst out: “What the hell were you waiting for? If you need to pee, you know where to find the bathroom. You don’t need my fucking permission, you stupid git!”

The insult was lost on Malfoy. His face was blank, obviously at loss. “I don’t understand. You ordered me to stay here. So I wasn’t allowed to leave.”

“What?” Harry had difficulty holding his temper. But he wouldn’t shout. “Are you mental?”

Malfoy shook his head earnestly, “No, I’m not.”

Shrugging his shoulders, not understanding why Harry couldn’t see the obvious, Malfoy repeated stubbornly, “I wasn’t allowed to leave.”

Harry felt himself staring at Malfoy as if he had gone crazy, so Malfoy hastened to offer more detailed information. He had learned it by heart, anyhow, “The Property has to obey every order of the Owner. The order of the Owner is law. Any disobedience, and the Property will be punished. The Owner is entitled to choose any form of punishment he decides to be suitable.”

Property? Owner? Law? Punishment?

“WHAT???” This time Harry’s voice was louder than necessary.

“Didn’t you even read the contract?”

Now it was Harry’s turn to gape blankly at the other. But soon his features changed to incredulity. No. He shook his head. This couldn’t be true! This was…

He wanted to shout, rave, holler. Agitation made him jump up as if he had been pierced by something really sharp in his bum when he saw Malfoy pointing at himself, mouthing, “Property”, and staggered a few steps backwards when Malfoy turned his hand around to direct his index-finger directly at Harry, “Owner”.

“You…. Me… NO!” Harry continued to shake his head. “HAH! This is ridiculous. The whole contract is RIDICULOUS... There has to be a way. Any contract can be broken… Owner, property, honestly. This can’t be legal. This is CRIMINAL! I’ll tear this piece of shit up RIGHT AWAY!”

Fuming, Harry turned on his heels to storm upstairs, determined to fetch the parchment. Malfoy’s superior calm voice stopped him when he grabbed the handle of the living room door.

“But the contract can’t be broken. And it can’t be destroyed. It even cannot be stolen. None of us ever heard of something like that, at least.”

Harry turned around slowly, still grabbing the door handle in a tight grip. His whole body was shaking with anger, “I don’t believe you.”

“Believe me or not.” Malfoy shrugged his shoulders indifferently. “But I witnessed enough guys attempting to break it. The contracts are concluded and sealed with magic, of course. I always wondered if there wasn’t some dark magic involved… Just try to tear it up. You won’t be able to. One of us did try to steal and destroy it.” Harry observed a ghost of the typical arrogant smirk on Malfoy’s face. “You should have seen his hands and face afterwards. All bloody. And his body… all shaking with fits. He screamed for four nights and wasn’t able to work for two months.”

Harry shuddered. He didn’t want to know the details. Neither did he want to imagine the effects of the theft on the poor lad. Better think of something different. Quick!

The very next thought that popped into his head made his muscles tense up even more. But he had to know. Cautiously, he voiced his question, dreading the answer, “What else do the… Property’s… duties consist of?”

Malfoy answered straight away, and he spat out his words with relish. “The Property has to make sure that he satisfies as many lovers as he can get!”

Harry saw Malfoy’s grin deepen when he detected Harry’s spontaneous discomfort. “Oh, yes,” Malfoy smirked, “he has got to be fucked… as often as possible!”

Everything inside Harry went numb at once. This was some kind of bad joke, wasn’t it? It simply had to be, because Harry could never imagine… could never even dream about…

But, honestly, what had he expected?

He wasn’t able to hold back any longer. The first time since he had gaped into those lost, grey eyes on the Restricted Corner he allowed himself to think.

How had Malfoy earned his living the last months? Years? How many lecherous brutes had abused the perfect body? How many wet hands had touched the velvety-soft skin? How many sharp fingernails had buried their uncontrolled grip into those distinctive male muscles?

And had Malfoy liked it? Had he screamed with lust? Had he found pleasure in being taken, every day, never minding the varying partners? Or had he detested it? Hated it? Had he cried and …

“By the way, Potter... When will you fuck me? ”

The low voice disrupting his incoherent thoughts made Harry jump. He let go of his tight grip on the door handle. His hand sank weakly down to his side, nestling the rim of his shorts for comfort.

“You are the Owner. You’ve got every right.” The low voice seemed to be shouting in Harry’s ears. “So… when, Potter? Get it over with. Don’t make me wait any longer. Claim your rights. Get it over with…”

Harry’s head felt dizzy. He had to stop shaking his head so violently in negation. The whole situation was getting out of hand. He had to put a stop to it. He took a few steps in Malfoy’s direction.

“Don’t be a git, Malfoy. No one is going to be…”

Harry’s voice trailed away when Malfoy stood up slowly. With well-measured steps he was approaching Harry on his bare feet, his face holding a determined expression.

“Fucked?” Harry saw the man’s cheekbones tighten. ”But that’s what an Owner does.” A contemptuous sneer accompanied Malfoy’s next words, “So I ask you again: When will you fuck me?”

Harry couldn’t comprehend the sudden change of mood. The grey eyes in front of him were blazing with a mixture of poorly concealed anger and impatience, mingled with something Harry couldn’t name. All he knew was that Malfoy was getting himself in something of a rage.

“THAT’S what I’m here for, or am I not?” The voice ceased to be low. “THAT’S what you bought me for! So DO IT, Potter! GET IT OVER WITH! TAKE ME.”

With a hasty motion, Malfoy jerked his shirt out of his jeans, tore it over his head and threw it in front of him on the well-polished wooden floor.

Too shocked to react in any way, Harry gaped at the completely hairless chest, with skin as smooth as a girl’s. Curiously his eyes took in erect, rosy nipples, the outlines of well-shaped muscles, broad shoulders and a perfect ribcage. But to his disappointment, one second later the sight was hidden partially by long silvery hair flying everywhere.

“WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?” Malfoy yelled, kicking the shirt on the floor aside with one foot with such vehemence it flew high up in the air and landed on the living room table, knocking over a vase filled with bright summer flowers.

Although the vase landed on the floor with a load crash, with flowers and water spilling everywhere, Harry couldn’t react in any way. He couldn’t raise his wand hand, not even open his mouth to stop Malfoy from proceeding with what he was determined to do. And he knew what the other was up to. He had known it all along.

He watched Malfoy fumbling impatiently with his belt buckle and eventually dragging the belt out of the loops of his jeans with such force that Harry instinctively backed away one step.

“GET IT OVER WITH!” Malfoy’s voice slightly toppled over.

The belt flew down to the ground with a loud thud, its buckle carving the wooden floor with the impact. But Harry never noticed the violation of his carefully polished living room floor. His gaze was fixed in wonder at Malfoy freaking out.

The shaking man was now quickly pulling his jeans down over his narrow hips, exposing long legs with well-proportioned muscles and incredibly soft skin.

This wasn’t happening. No. Gods, this wasn’t happening.

Moving back a step further Harry tried to say something, anything, but his mouth just stayed open; his voice was unable to produce any sound. He had to stop this, STOP this right now. But instead of shouting at Malfoy, Harry’s mouth simply closed on its own behalf, his teeth cracking nosily together.

A further step backwards couldn’t prevent Harry from watching Malfoy sliding out of his white boxers.

What a beautiful, perfect body.

Harry’s lips parted involuntarily whilst he let his gaze run over the appealing, well-shaped limbs. His eyes getting huge, like a kid in front of an illuminated Christmas tree, he let his glance wander slowly about the tempting, naked flesh. Harry never noticed that he started to tremble slightly. And he wasn’t aware of his chest heaving a deep sigh. All he knew was that his shorts suddenly seemed to be far too tight; and that his hands were uncomfortably wet.

The impulse to swallow was strong, but it was hard to swallow when every little bit of moisture has vanished all of a sudden, and his tongue had doubled in size and was glued to the roof of his mouth. To ease the pressure in his chest, Harry tried to concentrate on even breathing. He wasn’t really successful. His gaze was fixed on the smooth, pale, flat stomach. And instead of forcing his eyes upwards toward Malfoy’s face to confront him, to tell him to FUCK OFF, Harry’s eyes had nothing better to do than to slide downwards and stare intently on the long, erect member dancing up and down in front of Malfoy’s hips.

NO!

He… He wasn’t aroused by the sight of a man’s cock. He simply wasn’t. He had such a thing of his own, and he knew how to handle it very well. He didn’t need two of them, oh no, thank you very much.

He was not…

Harry’s gaze was still transfixed by the deep red cock like a deer in front of bright lights, when a slender hand entered his range of vision. His breathing doubled in speed as he watched long fingers slowly enclosing the pulsating piece of flesh. A thumb caressed slowly, even lovingly, the swollen glans. It didn’t take much of teasing the sensitive organ before a few drops of precome protruded out of the little slit parting the head.

All of a sudden, there was more spittle in Harry’s mouth than he could handle, and with a hasty gulp he tried to get rid of it. But his mouth instantly filled with fresh moisture again. Long, delicate fingers started to pull down the foreskin of the succulent prick now at a slow pace. And up again. And down again. And with each movement of the long fingers, the thick veins of the engorged member became even more pronounced.

Another hasty step back, and Harry’s back painfully bumped right into the living room door. He blinked his eyes rapidly, searching for a way out.

“Scared, Potter?” Malfoy’s soft chuckle was so near. Too near.

Harry tried to shift, but too late. He was cornered.

Malfoy’s forearms were leaning casually against the wooden door, framing Harry’s head. Any movement now, and Harry inevitably had to touch that naked body.

Fixating on Malfoy’s Adam’s apple, he tried to talk his way out. “Listen. Malfoy.”

Shit, why did his voice sound so weak? After trying to clear his throat inconspicuously, Harry started anew. “Listen.” This sounded better, stronger. A good start.

But still Harry didn’t seem to be able to move. For if he did, he would touch… But that… he couldn’t. He could not.

It was a mistake to close his eyes.

He could feel Malfoy’s hot breath upon his nose.

Panic set in. Harry tore his eyes wide open. The man’s face was just an inch away.

“Listen, Malfoy. I’m not gay. I don’t …”

Whatever Harry had intended to say, his speech was prevented by a deep, calculated kiss. Malfoy’s soft lips closed around Harry’s, working expertly on them with the sole purpose of arousing him. Sucking on the tender flesh, he ran his tongue over them, determinately trying to find his way into Harry’s mouth.

It felt so good, so right, so…

Realization as well as deep disappointment hit him like a bucket full of ice cold water.

Malfoy was trying to seduce him.

Harry’s heated body went rigid. His hands clenched into fists, ready to punch a good one into the flat stomach.

But…

You want to try me, Draco Malfoy? Do you really want to try ME?

Harry shot his tongue out deep down into Malfoy’s mouth, and he didn’t mind that the man flinched back a little. On the contrary. And he didn’t care at all when he grabbed for Malfoy’s naked shoulders, digging his fingers deep into the flesh, dragging the man closer to deepen the kiss.

Surprised, Malfoy?

Ignoring the arousing feeling of the other’s tongue against his own, forcing himself not to pay any attention to the sweet flavour of the wetness he tasted, Harry started to rock his hips slowly against Malfoy’s groin. A malicious, satisfied grin appeared on his lips when he heard a soft moan in his mouth.

Harry made his tongue intrude even deeper inside Malfoy’s mouth, pushing it against his tongue, swirling around it. When Malfoy tried to shift in his tight hold, Harry started to suck slowly on it, running his lips tightly all over the wet organ, never caring for the salvia they were spilling everywhere.

The moan was repeated, this time more deeply.

That was when all his well laid out plans simply went to hell.

Harry could feel Malfoy’s heart beating rapidly against his chest. His hands were groping the other man’s back, exploring the muscles, groping for the bones, pulling, dragging the naked body as close to him as he could.

He wanted more. Oh, yes, he wanted more. With a sound he couldn’t identify as his own, he let go of Malfoy’s face. His lips searched and found what they were looking for. Flesh. Hard, solid flesh. He let his teeth sink in playfully into the luscious muscles of shoulders and chest. His lips were sucking at the velvet skin, his tongue licking, probing, tasting. Light headed, he arched his back with an expectant little moan when he felt Malfoy’s hands pulling at his shirt hectically, dragging at it, jerking until he heard the clothes rip apart. That didn’t matter, no, it didn’t matter, as long as Malfoy’s hands were upon his naked skin at last. And on his back, groping frantically, pulling his eager body as close to him as possible.

The sudden impact of Malfoy’s bare chest against his overly sensitive skin intensified the inexpressible longing even more. So sweet, so incredibly sweet, was the sudden contact of skin upon skin, nipples brushing nipples, ribcage pressing hard against ribcage, rubbing, pushing; Harry groaned out loud.

A shudder of sheer pleasure went through Harry’s body when Malfoy bent down to bite hungrily into the sensitive flesh of his chest, all around his nipples, never touching them. All Harry could do was to dig his hands deeply into the long silvery hair, pulling the head towards his face, and to devour Malfoy’s lips in a deep kiss again. Malfoy’s instant moan was followed by Harry’s own. Their mouths crashed together, frantically searching the other’s lips, wanting to taste every liquid there was; wanting to suck, nibble, bite, possess. Hands were grasping and exploring bare chests and backs, desperate to take in every detail of the other’s body, hurting each other at the same time with mutual, reckless need. Tongue met tongue through bared teeth, not minding bruised lips, each wanting to eat the other up.

An open palm, Malfoy’s palm, grabbed for Harry’s groin roughly. Kneaded and pressed and stroked the hot bulge in Harry’s shorts until Harry pushed Malfoy’s hand aside with vehemence. Holding Malfoy’s hand to the wall, Harry pushed his abdomen violently against Malfoy’s thighs, feeling the other’s hardness against his own prick.

He pressed Malfoy closer toward the wall. Toward the wall? He couldn’t remember when exactly he had turned Draco around… With hard forceful thrusts Harry jerked against the luscious hot body. And his mouth was again lunging for the other’s lips, never caring that in his excitement his teeth knocked against the others with a crack, hurting his jaws, their jaws.

He felt the other shiver violently in his tight embrace. Gods, Draco was close... Malfoy was close. Who? WHAT? Shaking all over, he felt Malfoy jerk off against his thigh, splattering his semen all over Harry’s shorts.

Malfoy. NO! Not you. You… You will never get a chance to humiliate me again. Never again.

With a groan that almost sounded like a sob, Harry let go of the other man’s shoulders. He managed to get out a cough and was astounded how self-controlled his voice sounded.

“Thanks, Malfoy, for the interesting insights into gay sex. It’s quite, hm, interesting, but I don’t think I like it.” He made his hands brush his shorts in a casual sort of way. “Sorry, but I feel that I have to clean myself now.“

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